Megaman X: Shadows
by Grey Wolf1
Summary: Six months after the Nightmare Crisis has ended, another face, hiding in the shadows for so long, is about to enact a plan of vengence that will spark new nightmares for X and Zero....
1. Prologue: A Fine Price

Megaman X: Shadows  
  
Author's Note: I DO NOT own any characters from Megaman X, only this particular plotline for which they are involved. As for this, it's a bit of an experiment that I've had ideas about for quite a while, but never got the chance to put them down. As for my other fanfictions, don't worry: they're still in my computer and being worked on. This is just a different take on things.  
Prologue: A Fine Price  
  
Date: April 20, 21XX  
Six months after the events of Megaman X, Episode 6…  
  
Dynamo spat the foul-tasting drink out of his mouth as soon as his taste buds assimilated it. The rancid fluid splattered on the coarse, rusty table; Dynamo crushed the cheap metallic cup in his hand as he coughed out the last droplets of the oil-drink, his mouth suddenly somehow bitter and salty at the same time. He cursed inwardly – Reploid refinery processes had gone down the tubes since the Great Collapse only a few years ago.   
  
He managed to calm himself as he thought about it – there was really no one to blame but himself for the rotten taste in his mouth at the moment. Were it not for his assistance in contaminating Earth with the plague, most of the desolation and shortages that had now struck most of the planet may not have occurred.  
  
But, business was business, like always. As long as Dynamo had a healthy stream of zenni in his accounts and as long as the bounty hunter trade was substantial on Earth, he would be content to live with fetid drinks.  
  
Dynamo leaned back in the booth, glancing around the dimly-lit tavern at the lowly denizens. Most of them looked like they hadn't had a maintenance overhaul or even so much as a polishing in who-knew-how long. From what he knew about the remnant of the once-city of Cobura, it had turned into a makeshift pit-stop for the traveling Reploid civilians trying to pick their way through the ruined world.   
  
Most of the plain-looking barflies didn't seem to take notice of his obvious military-grade armament as well as the sleek weapons – twin blaster pistols and his modified Laser Saber – strapped onto his body. That suited him well – with the exception of his brief visits to Maverick Hunter HQ prior to the Great Collapse, Dynamo had been unnoticed concerning his direct involvement in the spreading of the Sigma Virus and the eventual creation of the Zero Virus. No distress transmissions had been sent to the Earth-bound authorities when he attacked the station, and none escaped the colony alive. Such thoroughness had kept him out of even greater trouble with the Maverick Hunters – being implicated with Sigma in that plot probably would've made him the most wanted criminal on the face of the Earth.  
  
But despite it all, I got away with my cash with barely a scratch on me while Sigma got royally trashed by the Daring Duo. Who says it doesn't pay to be a merc? Now all I gotta worry about is where to find some decent action around here…I haven't gotten any since before the Eurasia strike…  
  
Dynamo shifted in the lightly-cushioned booth, his hand resting on his gun as two burly thugs tromped past him. One of them exchanged a nasty glance with him, but both continued onward without further concern. He smirked, patting the blaster reassuringly. It had helped him assassinate many targets and claim countless bounties over his career, and it nearly had allowed him to capture what would've been a prize pelt for Sigma.  
  
I wonder what you're up to these days, X? Probably still keeping the peace as always, you little do-gooder...  
  
He barely noticed the main entrance to the tavern open and close again as he recalled his past encounters with X and his blonde-haired partner. True, he had multiple opportunities to destroy both of them, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to do it. Both of them were incredibly skilled, morally committed…and just so frightfully dedicated to their job. It was always perversely entertaining to watch them try their hardest for the purpose of preserving peace, justice, happiness, and that silly garbage that Maverick Hunters seemed to reek of.  
  
One day I'll settle the score with them, but only after someone puts a high enough price on their heads.  
  
Sigma had made a generous offer on both of the Hunters, but he obviously wasn't around to pay up should Dynamo have gotten the job done. And since the Great Collapse, the bounty hunting circuit had gone slightly south as some of the regular clients preferred to concentrate on survival rather than vengeance during the bad times. The largest posted bounty out on the market at the moment was seven thousand zenni, which was abysmally low considering previous years' standards.  
  
So until then, keep doing your good.He smirked to himself as he prepared to stand from the table. He'd wasted enough time and cash in this cheap establishment – maybe he'd find some better entertainment in the next town over.  
  
"Mister Dynamo?" As the bounty hunter adjusted his bright red visor, he was surprised to hear an elder male voice address him from his right. Automatically laying a hand on his blaster, he cocked his head toward the voice. It was then that he spotted an older-looking Reploid wearing a finely-tailored tan cloak looking directly at him with a pair of steel blue eyes, his hands clasped behind his back. He was well-groomed, bearing a head of thinning gray hair and a finely trimmed mustache and beard. His facial muscles were chiseled, giving him the focused gaze of a diplomat or politician. Off-hand, he looked fairly harmless, but Dynamo's grip on his blaster remained firm – he knew better than to underestimate the trash festering around the area.  
  
"What's it to you?"  
  
"You've earned some repute around this area," The old man continued, unfazed by Dynamo's defiance. His voice was deep and regal, speaking with crisp diction. "When this city of Cobura still stood here, you were among its underworld's favorite bounty hunters. It's such a shame that the Great Collapse claimed the life of what used to be a glorious metropolis."  
  
Dynamo's internal warning klaxons blared as he tensed his body. Not many people had known about his service to the Cryslix kingpins that once dominated Cobura, and most of the ones who did were dead by his hands. How could he have been found out by such a feeble old codger? He must've had something to do with the Maverick Hunters, or perhaps worse…  
  
Either way…  
  
In a quick, fluid motion, Dynamo snapped the blaster out of its holster and whirled around in the direction of the old Reploid. He extended his arm and releasing a plasma burst that should've decapitated him. To his surprise, the old man swiftly ducked his head to the right, and the blast flew across the tavern, striking the automated door on its rusty hinges and sending a resounding echo throughout the pub's dingy walls. Most of the patrons dove for cover in panic as the ancient door gave way, crashing to the ground with a resounding noise.   
  
Dynamo was stunned – he'd never missed with that gun, ever.  
  
"What the…?"  
  
Before Dynamo could react, a brilliant burst of light flashed in front of his eyes, and as a shrill sound filled his audio receptors, Dynamo glanced at his outstretched arm to see the back end of the blaster pistol smoking in his hand. The front end of the weapon clattered onto the floor, the metal red hot and emitting small wisps of smoke.  
  
Dynamo gazed over at the elder Reploid, who was brandishing a green laser saber with a curved handle in his hands. Sheer concentration was on his face, as if all of his focus had been centered in being able to sense the laser blast coming, dodging it, and retaliating in such a deft, precise manner.  
  
But why hasn't he gutted me yet? If he could dodge that shot so quickly, I should be on the ground coughing up my fluids right now…  
  
The elder drew his weapon away from Dynamo, sliding it back into a steel scabbard attached to his waist. He threw his head back a bit, laughing loudly as Dynamo fumed angrily.   
  
"How predictable!" He guffawed, staring directly into Dynamo's ruby-colored visor with mirth and folding his thin arms across his chest. "Feel fortunate that you're as good as I've heard, Mister Dynamo, or I would not have been so merciful."  
  
"Yeah, I'll bet…" Dynamo backed up against the table, considering drawing his spare pistol and trying his luck again now that he had the crazy old sword-wielder in front of him, but he decided against it. There was certainly much more to the old codger than met even his eyes, and the last way Dynamo wanted to meet his end was to be carved up in a rat-hole by someone more than twice his age. "Well, now that introductions are out of the way, just what did you want to talk to me about?"  
  
The old man motioned to the booth that Dynamo had formerly been occupying.  
  
"Have a seat, Mister Dynamo," He cordially offered, a confident smile broadening over his gaunt face. Dynamo shrugged his shoulders lightly and dropped down onto the sparse cushioning in the semi-circular booth. The old man took his seat opposite of him, resting his arms on the grimy tabletop. As the crisis had passed, the patrons of the bar emerged from their cover, continuing their activities.  
  
"You have nothing more to fear from me; I'm merely here on some business, the type your kind would be interested in."  
  
Dynamo casually leaned back on the seat, a bit of confidence returning to his face.  
  
"So, you're looking for someone to do some dirty work for you, eh?" He scratched his chin, suddenly feeling a bit more relaxed. "You came to the right guy. So what's the deal, old man?"  
  
"Saren," He replied, maintaining a very   
formal posture and speaking in a deep, elegant tone. "You may call me Saren. As for the 'deal,' I need someone to assist me in a bit of 'shopping.' I've got quite an extensive grocery list, but I can hardly hope to gather what I need on my own. I need the help of someone with an animated bravado – someone who's confident enough that he can outwit any of his foes, but at the same time possessing the skills to back it up. I need someone like you, Mister Dynamo."  
  
"First of all, enough with the 'mister' crap; do I look like a politician or a diplomat to you?" Dynamo replied with irritation. "Secondly, I'm not anybody's errand boy; I only take serious work from serious clients. Unless you've got a nice wad of cash to make it worth--"  
  
"Fifty thousand zenni," Saren continued, not missing a beat. His words stopped Dynamo in his sentence, and he couldn't help but gaze at the old coot in sheer disbelief. Saren seemed delighted in his shock, another shark-like grin forming on his face.  
  
"Fifty?" Dynamo squeaked out, receiving a reassuring nod from Saren. Despite it, Dynamo still couldn't fathom it. Even the bounty Sigma had given him for assisting in the Space Colony infection had only been twenty-five thousand. "That's…um…"  
  
"Sufficient, I hope," Saren calmly said. "But since you're above doing some treasure hunting, I can always take this offer elsewhere."  
  
"That's…!" Dynamo reached his white-gloved hand over and caught Saren by the shoulder as he prepared to stand from the booth. "That is, um…I don't MIND doing some scavenging, heh. After all, for fifty thousand zenni, I would hope that it's going to be challenging at least."  
  
Saren looked pleased, inviting Dynamo to stand from the table.  
  
"Excellent, I knew we could work something out," He chortled.  
  
"But there are some conditions," Dynamo audibly cleared his throat, trying to maintain a more commanding presence. He always made it a point to keep his control during client negotiations. A bounty hunter without it lost his ability to dictate the level of service he or she would be giving to the client. Even for fifty thousand zenni, he didn't want to take any unnecessary risks. "First of all, I want the money up front. No cut-offs involved, understand?"  
  
"We can discuss the financial end of things a bit later in our partnership," Saren stepped toward the door of the pub without paying much mind to Dynamo's requests, which only served to infuriate the bounty hunter even more – who did he think he was belittling? "For now, we have places to go, people to meet. Would you accompany me outside, please?"  
  
Dynamo kept his nerves in check, forcing his angry façade back into the recesses of his circuitry. Despite his patronizing attitude, Saren had the ability to pay him the largest bounty in his professional career, and he would've deserved a pair of spikes driven into his eyes if he screwed it up.  
  
Instead, Dynamo briskly stepped past the on-looking patrons and hurried out the open space where the door had once been. He was greeted by a cool breeze that swept down the dilapidated street. That was about the only good feature about the crumbling ruins around him. Aside from the bar, there weren't any other usable structures scattered anywhere. The few buildings that did remain from the aftermath of the Great Collapse were dangerously close to caving in on themselves, and their interiors were pitch-black, giving Cobura the appearance of a ghost town.  
  
He also supposed that since it was advancing into the later hours of the evening, the towering street lights would've been activated. There wasn't much luck there either – only one of the massive constructs was flickering lowly, casting an eerie blue shadow on the dark roadway. Dynamo activated a switch on the side of his visor, switching to infrared mode and turning the atmosphere in front of him a hazy green. He stared around at the wrecked street, suddenly wishing he'd kept it under the cloak of darkness. Garbage and chunks of pavement were strewn everywhere, and the remains of infomonitors that once hung from the broken street lights still crackled with a few volts of electricity on the nearby sidewalks. An acrid stench permeated the night air, the source of which was probably an unfortunate Reploid whose fluids had been spilled out in some alley nearby.  
  
Dynamo adjusted his internal olfactory sensors as he stepped forward to where Saren was waiting. He would be more than happy to leave this sorry excuse of a city behind him, especially where he was going.  
  
The old man was presently retracting a tiny, rectangular communicator from his ear and placing it beneath his cloak. He turned back to the approaching Dynamo.  
  
"Our transportation is arriving in a few seconds."  
  
"Don't tell me you tried calling for a cab in this dump," Dynamo scoffed. As he glanced carefully around the street for signs of life, a sudden rush of wind from above surprised him. Dynamo stepped back and glanced upward, spotting the landing lights of what looked to be a very classy and expensive hover-car.  
  
"It's not a cab, but I trust it will do," Saren remarked as the cruiser lightly touched down onto the cracked pavement. Dynamo glanced approvingly at the make – it was the latest design from Talara Motor Corporation, a sleek, polished limousine-type hover-car with a glossy black paint. The chrome hubcaps, grill, and fenders were shimmering even throughout his infrared vision.  
  
The driver – a larger Reploid with a fresh finish and curt movements – stepped from the hover-car and opened the back passenger door for Saren. He bowed courteously to his employer, and Saren returned the gesture.  
  
"Thank you, Marett," He said, stepping halfway into the car before addressing the imposing Reploid again. "We'll be going to the office; and get there quickly, if you would."  
  
Marett nodded astutely, returning wordlessly to the front of the hover-car and stepping inside.  
  
"Well, Dynamo? Are you going to join us, or do you prefer to walk back to Talara from here?"  
  
The hunter smiled with delight. Could this evening have gotten any better than this? First, it was the fifty thousand zenni for a few errand jobs, and now he got to cruise the skies in style. He'd underestimated Saren – he wasn't the crazy old codger he'd taken him for at first.  
  
He gingerly jogged over to the open passenger door of the hover-car, hopping inside as it began to lift off from the ground. Slamming the door behind him, Dynamo ducked his head low within the spacious cabin, chuckling aloud at the surroundings. Against each wall was a plush leather couch, and secured to the wall at the front of the cabin was a small crystalline refrigerator that housed – from what Dynamo's internal sensors could tell – high quality oil-drinks. Dim lights radiated from behind the couches, giving the darkly-colored cabin a relaxed, comfortable atmosphere.  
  
"Indulge yourself, my friend," Saren had seated himself at the rear-most seat of the cabin, and he was in the process of unhooking the clasp on his cloak. "And we'll discuss the terms of our agreement."  
  
Dynamo opened up the tiny door of the crystal fridge, withdrawing one of the glass bottles that were stacked inside. He glanced curiously at the label, smirking as he read the emblazoned text.  
  
"Grade AA Petrol; this would run a few thousand zenni even in the lower market places," Dynamo commented, popping open the cork seal. He took a few generous gulps of the liquid contents, feeling refreshed even before the oil flowed down his throat and into his energy processor. He licked his lips with satisfaction. "Damn; you've got some good taste, old man! I should've gotten a contract with you sooner!"  
  
Saren returned a slight smirk as he threw his cloak onto the seat next to him. Beneath the wrap, he was wearing a neatly pressed, jet black business suit with a crisp, rich crimson tie hanging from his neck. Dynamo even noticed a pair of gold cuff-links attached to his wrists. The only feature that seemed a bit out of place was the laser saber hanging from his waist.  
  
"Nothing personal, but the plain steel doesn't go with the Armani," Dynamo noted, dropping down onto one of the couches and supping the AA Petrol. Seeing the dangling laser saber on the old man's waist brought another curiosity back to Dynamo's attention, something he'd been interested in hearing about since the little scuffle in the bar. "Who was the guy who taught you all those moves? It must've been a grand master; lord knows you've probably got enough cash to hire one."  
  
Saren didn't look amused at Dynamo's commentary; he was busy adjusting the cuff-links of his wrists to pay the indulgent bounty hunter any mind.  
  
"Nobody taught me my skills with the sword," he answered as he reached to the side of his couch, searching the corner of the hover-car for something. "The show I put on inside the pub was nothing compared to what I can do with the blade in a real fight. This weapon never leaves me – it's an extension of my body, and I've eliminated many of my enemies with it."  
  
Dynamo glanced over at the old man with a bit of suspicion. Extravagant and hospitable as he was, Saren was certainly not to be trusted completely yet as far as he was concerned. Anybody who carried a weapon around with them and boasted of numerous killings certainly wasn't any ordinary Reploid. Dynamo was certain to leave his hand on his spare blaster in case the old man thought about double-crossing him.  
  
But instead, Saren rose up with a manilla folder clutched in his right hand. He handed the dossier to Dynamo, who placed the half-drained bottle next to him and examined the contents. He pulled out a paper-clipped collection of blown-up photographs, the first one displaying a heavily armored complex in the middle of a wintery forest. Gun emplacements surrounded the thick walls from all angles, and Dynamo was also able to pick out a few missile batteries installed on a few of the high towers of the fortress.  
  
"A bit of a quiz for you, Dynamo," Saren said, leaning over and removing another bottle of oil-drink and a small glass from the other side of his couch. "Do you recognize the complex in the first picture?"  
  
Dynamo nodded, studying the photograph carefully.  
"I should say so, I've been in and out of there a few times," He replied. "That's the main HQ of the HYBRID organization. They've got weapons up the ass stored in that base."  
  
"Precisely," Saren poured a healthy amount of oil-drink into the polished glass, sipping leisurely from it. "Only they don't just have guns, missiles, and explosives stored within the walls of that fortress. They've recently come into contact with something a bit more potent."  
  
Dynamo glanced over at Saren, his interest peaking.  
  
"Ah, something heavy-duty. Chemical or biological?"  
  
"Something to that effect," Saren agreed. "It's something you should know much about, Dynamo. You were partially responsible for spreading it throughout Earth all those months ago."  
  
Dynamo froze in his place, feeling the mirth formulate on Saren's face and disappearing from his. He couldn't believe his audio receptors – Saren had somehow found out about the Zero Virus and his part in spreading it.  
  
"Oh, you thought that was a guarded secret from everybody? I'm a bit more perceptive than that, friend. You were under Sigma's employ during the Eurasia incident and you attacked Maverick Hunter Headquarters twice during the crisis. Thus I'm assuming that you were the one who assisted Sigma in the crashing of the space colony into the planet."  
  
Dynamo felt uneasy as he swallowed hard. How had Saren known? How had he been able to find out about his employment history? He never shared his list of clients with anyone for just such security reasons.  
  
"But you have nothing to fear," Saren chortled as he sipped his oil-drink. "I have no interest in turning you over to the Maverick Hunters even if the price offered for information on that incident was worth my time. On the contrary, when the tasks I have for you are accomplished, you will have participated in planting the seeds of their destruction."  
  
Dynamo felt his tension melt away as Saren's words rolled out of his mouth.  
  
"Now you and I are on the same level," Dynamo told him as he closed the folder. "I owe a few of those Maverick Hunters some broken limbs from the Eurasia incident."  
  
"Getting back to my original point," Saren continued. "According to my surveillance contacts within the region, HYBRID has recently procured test strains of the Zero Virus from the crash site of the Eurasia Colony. They're being stored deep within the laboratories within the facility. I need those samples for my own reasons."  
  
"Your own reasons? May I ask how my employer plans to use of the Zero Virus? You'd better not be thinking of testing it out on me, old man."  
  
"Certainly not! I know better than to conduct mad-science experiments with such volatile materials. The strains are necessary for a smaller project I've been running at my laboratory in Talara. Once the project is completed, they will be my instruments for implementing the destruction of the Maverick Hunter organization. You must help me acquire those samples."  
  
Dynamo scratched his chin in thought, his fascination with Saren growing with every minute.  
  
First, he offers me a ton of money just for some treasure hunting, he offers me a killer ride and a few bottles of high-priced oil, and now he wants the Zero Virus to wipe out the Maverick Hunters…what else does this guy have in store for me?  
  
"Breaking into the HYBRID complex? Cake," Dynamo casually shrugged. "I've been there enough times to make it down into the labs without even causing a commotion. I'll be in and out of there before they know anything's wrong."  
  
"I'm glad to hear that," Saren nodded approvingly as he sipped more of his drink. "You're exactly what I expected you would be, Dynamo. Now, for the second task--"  
  
"First, two quick questions, just to satisfy my curiosity," Dynamo asked as he turned his eyes away from the folder momentarily. "Number one, what kind of doomsday device do you have in store for the Maverick Hunters, and number two, what's your deal with them?"  
  
Saren nodded again, this time in understanding.  
  
"That's fair enough. I'll answer both with a bit of a guess-and-test, however. I've developed a new form of…technology, per se. Are you familiar with Biotech Armament, Dynamo?"  
  
Dynamo snuffed.  
  
"Biotech? You've got to be kidding. I thought that stuff went out of use during the first viral outbreak. It couldn't even stand up to the Sigma Virus, let alone the Zero Virus."  
  
"Well, Biotech happens to be my specialty, given my programming and design," Saren continued. "I was once a Bionoid Warrior; you know, back during the old days where the Maverick Hunters weren't even a suitable defense organization."  
  
"Bionoid…?" Dynamo arched an eyebrow, brushing some of his long white hair away from his visor-covered eyes. He chuckled aloud, afraid that he'd touched a nerve with his comments about the Biotech Armament. "Well, then I can understand your resentment toward the Hunters. Even I couldn't believe what they did to your kind."  
  
Saren's face tightened into a nearly rage-filled scowl as he sipped down more of his oil-drink. Apparently, Dynamo HAD touched a nerve; he would have to watch his words around the old man, or else his head may've been the one he sheered off instead.  
  
"Now that the second question is taken care of, I'll refer back to the first," Saren regained his composure as the fluids disappeared down his throat. "This is a bit more difficult. Moments ago, you stated that Biotech circuitry once used by the Bionoids wouldn't hold up to the Maverick-inducing viruses. This is true, until recently. Using my resources and my brilliance in the fields of genetics and biological combat, I've managed to devise a pair of exoskeletons that are well-equipped with Biotech Armament. There are only two problems: the modifications I've made to the circuitry require a host to fuse with, thereby creating a powerful symbiosis that can grant the warrior extreme levels of power. I need something as potent as the Zero Virus for that reason."  
  
"Ah, I get it. It's just like what happened with Zero during the Eurasia incident," Dynamo guessed. "He got pumped full of the virus when the colony crashed; but it gave him an insane power boost.  
  
"Precisely, my perceptive friend. The second problem – which also goes along with the second item I need your assistance in retrieving – is the absence of proper sentient programming within the CPUs of the exoskeletons. I've also perfected a program that can accurately replicate the memories, intelligence, and emotions of a Reploid onto a CPU, even if that Reploid has been dead for years."  
  
Dynamo felt his throat getting dry again, so he took another swig from the Petrol bottle.  
  
"What's the point though? I mean, with the kind of cash you're throwing around, you could easily get a few military-grade sentient cores for those guys."  
  
"True enough," Saren refilled his glass, setting the bottle down. "But there's a reason I want certain sentient programming for my experiments – it fuels a very special effect. You see, I have a very vengeful conscience when it comes to the Maverick Hunters, and when I eventually hit them with my viral warriors, I want them to be spiked directly through their biggest hearts – the prized Hunters, X and Zero."  
  
Dynamo smiled at the old man's ruthlessness – it was a quality he admired within himself at times. The plan contained its own strategic undertones as well – without X and Zero, the Maverick Hunters were nearly as good as nothing.  
  
"So you want to cut those two down first, eh? But if you doing what I think you're doing, I'll be kind of disappointed. I mean, please don't tell me that you're considering cloning the two of them – that's just so unoriginal!"  
  
That got a chuckle out of Saren.  
  
"No; while that would still be interesting, it's still not nearly enough. I need the sentience programming from two individuals who would provoke even stronger emotions from X and Zero than two simple clones would. And throughout my research and consideration over the past years, I've finally been able to narrow the field down to two very special Reploids that hold high meaning for the two prized Hunters. But the retrieval of the sentience programming can wait until the Zero Virus vials are recovered. No sense getting ahead of ourselves, is there?"  
  
Dynamo shook his head, the suspense getting to him. If there was one thing that he couldn't stand, it was a damn cliffhanger.  
  
"Oh, come on, old timer, you can't just leave me by a thread like that! I've got to know, who'd you have in mind for a shocking return from the grave to surprise those two do-gooders?"  
  
Saren motioned toward the dossier casually.  
  
"The final two sheets will tell you. I think your expertise will quickly be able to recognize them."  
  
Dynamo hurriedly opened up the folder, tossing aside a few more shots of the HYBRID fortress and lifting up the last two crisp pictures files from the manilla carrier. Looking down at the two blueprints, he didn't know quite what to say at first; he just stared with a frozen face. Oh, he recognized the two Reploids in the photos. Both of them had played an integral role in the existences of both X and Zero, and Dynamo's admiration for Saren's pitiless and callous attitude had reached even higher peaks with the realization. He doubted that even Sigma could've dreamed up a plan like this. Considering how hot the two Maverick Hunters could become in battle, this psychological ploy was beyond perfect strategy.  
  
"Poetic, isn't it?" Saren marveled at the bounty hunter's reaction. "I can think of no other appropriate end for those two than by their hands. Both of their models are mostly the same to keep the effect they'll have on both of them, but each will be outfitted with my new Biotech Armament and activated after you retrieve the Zero Virus and their sentience programming. Once X and Zero are crushed, the Maverick Hunter ranks will crumble, and my revenge will be complete."  
  
Dynamo studied the dark armor and emotionless, T-visored helmet of the first figure, and he contrasted it with the pleasant smile and rainbow-colored dress of the second. She would undoubtedly be meant for Zero, and from the studies Dynamo had conducted on the First Maverick War and the Doppler Rebellion, X always had a cold spot in his heart for the first subject.  
  
"Vile and Iris…simply brilliant." He finally said, glancing up at a grinning Saren. "Oh, it is going to be pleasure working for you, Saren, if not for the money than to see them crumble beneath old enemies. It's just so, so…brutal, a poster-child for evil everywhere."  
  
Dynamo picked up the bottle of Petrol and held it up to Saren, who glanced smugly back at his hire.  
  
"'There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so,'" He proudly told him in a Shakespearian tone. The wily old man lifted his glass one more time, tapping it against the bottle. "Cheers." 


	2. Chapter 1: Defenders of the Earth

Chapter 1: Defenders of the Earth  
  
X quickly ducked his head back down behind the trench wall as another wire-thin laser bolt zinged past his location. He cursed lowly as he flattened himself against the barren earth – if he'd been slow by half a second, the sniper's shot would've certainly pierced his head.  
  
"Damn…I hate being pinned down like this…"  
  
The chase had started out innocently enough – raiding Mavericks had struck one of the more lightly guarded weapons depots built a short distance away from Maverick Hunter HQ, making off with quite a few valuable pieces of artillery. X and his two back-ups – Getero and Markinson – had pursued them into south Talara, only to be ambushed by the snipers once they were in range of Saratoga Tower and Melbourne Suite. Getero and Markinson had been several yards ahead of X, and they were picked off easily. It had been fortunate that he'd spotted the wide crack in the road – if he hadn't, he would've been sprawled on the dirt road, as lifeless as her two partners.   
  
He crept left along the wide, rock-covered trench that sat a short distance away from the dilapidated towers. He kept as close to the slanting rock wall as he could to stay out of firing range of the snipers, seriously considering whether or not to just jump up and charge the towers outright and hoped that their aim was bad.  
  
::But their aim wasn't bad when they picked off Getero and Markinson…dammit, why did they have to be so reckless?::  
  
X decided to stay put for the movement, sitting up against the trench wall as another laser struck the ground in front of the ditch. They were taunting him, daring X to make the fatal mistake of exposing himself as his teammates did.  
  
He activated his internal radio, sending another signal back to Alia at the HQ. He hoped that it would get through as far off as they were.  
  
"This is X calling Maverick Hunter HQ, somebody please respond!"  
  
He got nothing but static at first, which worried him – without any back-up, he was as good as dead as long as the snipers had the patience to wait for him. Thankfully, after a second try at it, X heard Alia's voice replying through the static.  
  
"This is Alia; report your status, X," She told him.  
  
A few more rounds hammered into the opposite wall of the trench, and X instinctively crunched himself up even more against the dirt barrier – they were just watching and waiting for him to expose even the slightest inch of his body, and X certainly couldn't afford any type of injury in this sort of stand-off.  
  
"We've tailed our two Maverick weapon thieves into the heart of South Talara, sector nine-beta. But they had reinforcements waiting in some of the remaining towers– a team of Maverick snipers picked off Getero and Markinson; I'm currently pinned down in a trench and I require assistance."  
  
Alia kept her demeanor even, speaking clearly and with concentration into the radio.  
  
"How many of them are there?"  
  
X heard more laser bolts striking the ground above him, driving his logic circuitry further into panic mode.  
  
"At least three, maybe more, I can't really tell from where I'm situated. And there's no way I'm going to get a clear shot at them without exposing myself. Are there any units scattered within this vicinity?"  
  
There was brief silence over the link; he assumed that Alia was double-checking a few of the mapping grids for the sectors assigned to the dispatched Hunters. X felt his wiring beginning to twist itself into knots as he silently urged Alia to hurry up.  
  
"Okay, I'm going to put out a distress call over the HQ's main transmitter; there's a few roving Hunters in sector nine-delta that can be there shortly. Could you relay your coordinates again?"  
  
X sighed with relief.  
  
"Not a problem; my coordinates are South Talara, sector ni--"  
  
A sudden explosion from behind him nearly blew out his audio receptors and sent X soaring high into the air, a sudden wall of flame scorching his back, searing his circuitry. Seconds later, he felt himself crashing on his side on the dirt road above the trench, chunks of earth and rubble dropping down on the area surrounding him. X attempted to pull himself to his feet, his vision blurred and his audios ringing. His internal radio had been damaged, and now he couldn't even get as much as a piece of static.   
  
"Plasma…grenade… damn…" X grunted, realizing that the explosion had sent him clear out of his hiding spot. As quickly as he could regain his senses, he rolled back toward the ditch, which was still his best chance for cover. He hadn't counted on any secondary weaponry from the Maverick snipers – it had probably been tossed by one of the first Maverick thugs that his team had chased to the towers.  
  
His body collapsed back into the ditch as a few laser bolts impacted the ground where he had just landed. Using his remaining strength, he managed to drag himself against the wall, breathing heavily.  
  
"Internal systems breached…" He gasped as he attempted to keep from passing out. "I hope Alia makes the right guess at those coordinates, or I'm finished…"  
  
***  
  
"Wow, nice shot with that thing, Reteks!" The short, pudgy Maverick congratulated his companion in a boisterous tone, his disgusting, oil-leaking form hanging nearly halfway out of a gaping hole in what used to be a sales office on a high level of Saratoga Tower. The late afternoon sun was the only light source in the crumbling office – the electricity had long since been disconnected from the ruined structure after the Maverick riots destroyed it.   
  
Reteks - a slender, shabbily armored Maverick – lowered the high-powered grenade launcher, smirking with satisfaction at the smoldering mess below them.  
  
"It was too easy," He growled through a pair of silver fangs. "Imagine the rep we're going to get after this one! The legendary Maverick Hunter X will make a hell of a trophy!"  
  
"I wonder if I can squeeze into that skinny blue armor of his?" The fat Maverick guffawed as he repositioned the sniper rifle on his right shoulder. "Now, let's just wait until he pops his broken head up, and I'll blow it clean off his shoulders!!"  
  
"Not if I can explode him first!" Reteks got down into a prone position with the grenade launcher, carefully taking aim at the trench X was hiding in. Another shot would surely finish him for good. "I got dibs on his X-Buster!!"  
  
Suddenly, a crashing noise interrupted Reteks's concentration, and the snarling Maverick suddenly caught a glimpse of his corpulent partner tumbling out of the tower and plummeting down ten stories to his death, screaming all the while.  
  
"What the…?!" Reteks glanced up where his companion was recently roosting, gasping as he caught a glimpse of the figure that had knocked him out the window.  
  
"An M-P56 Plasma Grenade Launcher," The red-armored soldier shook his head as he studied the make of Reteks's weapon. "Boy, when I heard you clowns raided the arsenal, I only thought you'd be after rifles or pistols. I like your taste!"  
  
Reteks quickly brought the weapon to bear on the Maverick Hunter, who deftly stomped onto the slender Maverick's back, cracking some of his faulty armor. The grenade launcher came loose from Reteks's hands and clattered onto the floor as he yelped in pain.  
  
"But the only problem is that you nearly blew my buddy down there to pieces," He snapped in an angry tone, drawing a modified green laser saber from a sheath on his back. "And because of that, well…"  
  
He raised the flaming green sword above his head as Reteks croaked out a few words.  
  
"No…stop…I don't deserve this…!!"  
  
The armored Reploid nodded his head in mock sarcasm.  
  
"Sorry, but I think you do," He replied. "By the way, when you get down to Hell, tell them Zero sent you, and tell them to keep saving my seat for me."  
  
With a quick motion, Zero brought his sword down, slicing Reteks's head in half in a spray of motor fluids and sparking wiring. As the dirty Maverick's cranium spilled oil onto the floor, Zero – as an afterthought – spun his Z-Sabre above his head and plunged it into the corpse's heart, tearing through its chest cavity on the way out.  
  
As the corpse sparked and convulsed a few times before finally falling completely stiff, Zero casually picked up the grenade launcher with his free hand.  
  
"Good taste in weapons, though," He remarked to himself as he tested the weight of the piece and aimed it around the wrecked office. "I won't argue with that."  
  
He glanced out the massive hole that had been torn through the building, scanning the adjacent towers for the two Mavericks' companions. They'd stopped firing on X's location since the Maverick grenade had nearly scrapped him on the spot, and they'd no doubt seen their fat partner take a tumble out of his sniping roost. Glancing down now, Zero was satisfied to see his round hide splattered on the dusty roadway, his limbs motionless.  
  
After several more seconds of searching the crumbling towers around him, Zero finally spotted the remaining trio of Maverick bandits directly across from him. One sniper was positioned on one of the highest floors of Melbourne Suite, and two of his brethren were just below him, their rifles fixed on the trench where X was recuperating. Obviously, they hadn't thought much of their partner tumbling from his perch – considering his disgusting appearance and raspy, annoying voice, Zero couldn't blame them.  
  
::No time to hurry over and take them out…X's probably hurting bad down there right now…::  
  
He re-sheathed his Z-Sabre, gazing at the grenade launcher thoughtfully. It wasn't often that he got to use some of the heavier weaponry, but now seemed like a good time. Carefully taking aim at the upper-most Maverick with the cylindrical launcher, Zero squeezed the ring-like trigger of the gun.  
  
The results were, needless to say, spectacular. The flaming red plasma grenade screamed across the sky in a parabolic course, impacting the area of the building right below the Maverick's sniper perch. As the explosion roared outward from the structure, Zero watched with satisfaction as the floor that the unsuspecting Maverick was standing on gave way, crashing directly onto his two companions. If that wasn't enough, the collapse set off a domino effect, and the floors began to collapse one after the other until all of them – along with the very dead Mavericks – crashed onto the ground, leaving a gaping vertical stripe of a hole on the ruined tower.  
  
Zero lowered the launcher, quickly double-checking the Melbourne Suite for any straggling snipers. Finding none and having already ascertained that the two Mavericks he'd just killed had been the only occupants of the Saratoga Tower, he turned and hurried back to the stairwell. Given the power of the M-P56, who knew how badly X had been damaged.   
  
***  
  
The deafening explosion drew X out of his hiding spot despite the obvious danger. He gazed with astonishment as he saw the entire central section of Melbourne Suite collapsing bringing down three of the Maverick snipers.  
  
::Could it have been some kind of gas leak that triggered when the rifles went off?::  
  
X pulled himself over the trench, stumbling toward the site carefully, keeping his X-Buster leveled on the windows of the towers in case any more Maverick snipers were still around. As he approached the entrance to the Saratoga Tower, he was surprised to find a repulsive-looking Reploid's remains dashed on the ground, oil and fluids splotched everywhere. A sniper rifle – now broken into several pieces – was next to him.  
  
::He took quite a fall…but how could he have been so careless…?::  
  
"I wouldn't get too close if I were you," A familiar voice called from inside the dilapidated structure. X smiled brightly as a figure emerged from the dank lobby with a grenade launcher gripped in his hand. Zero nodded toward the flattened corpse. "He hasn't had an oil-bath in who-knows-how long. I can't imagine what rusting's going to do to him."  
  
"Zero…" X panted in relief, dropping down onto his battered knees in fatigue. "You saved my life…after that grenade hit, I thought I was done for."  
  
Zero shrugged casually, kneeling down next to his friend.  
  
"What're partners for, eh?" He play-punched X in the shoulder, glancing over the Hunter's injuries. "Looks like they gave you a run for your money. Can you make it back to the base?"  
  
"I think a few of my internal systems were breached," X answered hoarsely. "It's tough just to stay standing."  
  
"You're lucky you were able to stand at all," Zero remarked as he helped X to his feet, albeit shakily. "I swear, you have some kind of guardian angel watching you sometimes. No matter what comes your way, you manage to luck your way through it."  
  
"Luck?" X protested, standing on his own power. His auto-repair systems were finally beginning to kick in, and his vocal circuits began to recover their power. "I'll have you know that if you had been a few minutes later, I would've--"  
  
"You would've been a nice little collection of tin shreds on the road," Zero laughed aloud and he slapped X on his scorched back. The Hunter yelped in pain as Zero's hand connected, and the red Hunter drew back in embarrassment. "But we'll ignore that for now. Let's just get you and your teammates back to HQ for repairs."  
  
"It's too late for Getero and Markinson," X sadly glanced back at the two prone bodies that were lying motionless on the road. "They got picked off earlier, when we were first ambushed by the snipers. Getero took one in the temple, and Markinson was shredded by the other two from his legs up."  
  
Zero cursed under his breath, noticing the two dead Maverick Hunters.  
  
"Damn Mavericks…" He muttered as they walked across the way to the two corpses. Markinson had been a well-built, honorable Maverick Hunter with above-average abilities. "He'd just transferred to your unit, didn't he?"  
  
X glanced down at Getero's smaller body, fluids dripping from the open wound on his head.   
  
"Yeah…he was really excited that he finally made it to the elite units," X told him. "And now this puts Unit Seventeen under capacity. I've got to arrange some transfers with General Signas once we get back to HQ."  
  
"Well, no sense in dragging two corpses all the way across town," Zero suggested. "Think you can hold out while a med team gets out from HQ?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm feeling a bit stronger than I was when that grenade hit," He replied. "But my radio was damaged in the battle; Alia's probably worried sick."  
  
Zero flashed X a mischievous glance, laughing a bit as X reacted to his look with a sense of confusion.  
  
"Oh, I'm sure she is, X, I'm sure she is…"  
  
"What's that about? What are you laughing at?"  
  
Zero clamped his hand on the smaller Maverick Hunter's shoulder, shaking him as he nodded.  
  
"Oh, come on, haven't you noticed the way she looks at you since we came back from Gate's lab?" Zero said into X's face as the blue Hunter stared back in confusion and astonishment. "She's got something for you, X; I don't know how much, but she definitely feels a lot stronger about you than she did during the Eurasia incident."  
  
X couldn't help but laugh himself at that one, collapsing onto the ground and leaning back on his arms as Zero took a seat on a large rock.  
  
"Now you're starting to imagine things," X retorted. "Alia's mind is set in her work; it's been the same way since she became the head coms officer for my unit. I mean, she hardly ever works a shift without staying at least two hours overtime. Plus, she's been occupied with Gate's purification ever since I brought him back from his lab."  
  
"She was quite grateful to you for that, if I remember correctly," Zero nodded roguishly, causing X to roll his eyes. "Come on, if she had something for you, tell me you wouldn't pursue it as an off-chance."  
  
X shook his head with a smile.  
  
"Alia's married to her work, Zero; you know that as much as I do," X replied to him. "As am I. I'd rather not go the other route. I've already seen enough of it from a few of the guys from Unit Four. Good luck trying to motivate that bunch to train and make their shifts on time."  
  
Zero grew silent for a moment, the mirth draining away from his face until he finally clicked on the side of his helmet, activating his internal radio. X stared at him in a bit of bewilderment – Zero's humorous mood had seemingly vanished in the blink of an eye after that last remark.  
  
"You okay?" He asked.  
  
"She's coming through now," Zero answered, his gaze shifted away from X. "Alia, this is Zero; I picked up the radio traffic between you and X…No, he's fine, I managed to bail him out of yet another mess. What would he do without me?"  
  
X rolled his eyes again as Alia was speaking through the radio link. He couldn't hear any of her dialogue through Zero's internal radio, and he couldn't gather anything from Zero's expressions – he assumed that things were back to business as usual, no inside jokes involved.  
  
"No, we managed to cap all of them, but we lost Getero and Markinson in the process, and X got a little banged up from a plasma grenade. That's what threw off your conversation earlier. Can you get a med team over here and get us back to HQ?"  
  
He gave X a confirmation nod as Alia relayed a response. But seconds later, he scowled out of nowhere. Alia had obviously had some kind of reprimand for him.  
  
"Yes, Alia…I know that…I…Fine, whatever…I'll stick to my planned route next time, alright? Okay, Zero out." He clicked the radio off, glancing back at X. "The med teams and our ride'll be here in about twenty minutes."  
  
"Everything okay?" X sat up, suddenly becoming suspicious of his partner's activities. "What was Alia telling you?"  
  
"Nothing important, just a bit of friendly advice that I'm going to make a point to ignore in the future," He replied, standing up and walking back toward the towers, staring out at the waning sun. X was about to let the point drop when Zero abruptly answered his question. "You were lucky that I was in the area when you transmitted that message – I was originally assigned to patrol sector twelve-gamma, over in the east section of Talara."  
  
X stood up, walking over to join him, questions brewing within his logic circuitry.  
  
"That's quite a way off from here," He pointed out as Zero continued to stare out at the afternoon skies. "Any particular reason why you decided to venture out into this part of town?"  
  
"Do you really want to know?" Zero asked, letting out a heavy sigh. "To be honest, I needed a place to think for a while, and this part of town is usually a quiet enough place for it…It's those nightmares again. They came back to me about two and a half weeks ago, and I haven't had a peaceful night's sleep since."  
  
X tensed up as his friend spoke, sensing the discomfort in Zero's voice and motions. He'd told him about his strange dreams – which seemingly involving his origins – on a few occasions in the past, and X knew that they wore heavily on Zero's mind at times. He'd always tried as best as he could to empathize with the issue, but it was difficult considering that X at least knew scraps about his past and his enigmatic creator. Zero, on the other hand, only received details about his beginnings through his nightmarish dreams, all of which were extremely violent and filled with cryptic portents.  
  
"Was it the same ruined lab as before?" X guessed, choosing his words carefully. "You know, the wrecked robots and bloody hands?"  
  
Zero shook his head, the large blue gem on his forehead reflecting the sunlight.  
  
"No, it's been a lot different this time around, but no less disturbing," He reported, hesitating for a few seconds before continuing. "Most of them are pretty similar to each other…I'm stuck in some kind of a hazy purple world, kinda like the inside of the Zero Virus crater, which was the first thing that freaked me out."  
  
"And the other thing?"  
  
Zero's discomfort became even more obvious as he paced back and forth across the dirt-covered road, his voice getting shaky and anxious.  
  
"When the dreams started and up through the end of the first week, I was just…fighting. I didn't know why I was there, or why they were attacking me, but I would always end up in a gauntlet of ghost-like Mavericks – hollow white-blue forms with empty eye sockets. They almost looked like ghost versions of Reploids. And for every enemy I managed to cut through, another would materialize in its place, ready to fight. And the same battle would continue for what felt like hours…sometimes if I was damaged by one of the ghosts, I would snap out of it, but after I went back to sleep, the same scenario played out again."  
  
"No wonder I haven't seen you at HQ after hours lately…" X concluded. "You probably have been going for quite a while without sleep."  
  
"Two days at this point; that's only because I've experienced the worst of them lately…" He trailed off, shaking his head as he shivered almost feverishly. X paid close attention – his friend's dreams had never given him this much anxiety before; upon closer examination of Zero's face, X could see thin lines extending around the edges of his eyes, giving him a bit of a maddened look. "You see…up until a few days ago, the enemies I'd been fighting didn't resemble anybody in particular. I figured that my mind had just cobbled together some random images from expectations and experience. But a few nights ago, a vision appeared in that gauntlet dream that I never wanted to see again: the Colonel."  
  
X gasped, his eyes widening.  
  
"Colonel…what happened between the two of you?"  
  
"At first, it was a simple stare down. Initially, I wanted to say something, but instead I simply drew out my Z-Sabre and attacked him like I did any of the others. It was strange…I was watching myself fight as hard as I could against him, but that was all I was able to do. I didn't even feel like I was moving my limbs or dodging his counter-attacks. And all he did was stare back at me through a pair of cold eye sockets…I'm telling you, X, he looks much more intimidating dead than he ever did while he was alive."  
  
X scratched his chin as he listened to Zero, trying to make sense of his strange dream.  
  
"I don't get it…you couldn't feel any control over yourself?" He wondered aloud.  
  
"It was like that with all the others, too," Zero confirmed. "No matter how much I wanted to back off and regroup, my body wouldn't let me. It just kept throwing me back into the fray as new enemies appeared for me to mow down."  
  
"Do any of the dreams ever have an ending?"  
  
Zero was slow to answer, obviously not wanting a particular memory to resurface in his mind. X waited for his friend patiently – if there was one particular subject that Zero had a difficult time discussing, it was the Repliforce, especially his splintered friendship with the Colonel. It was the confrontations with him and his late sister that Zero had agonized over for weeks after the destruction of their space station, the Final Weapon. It was only slightly before the Eurasia incident when X had noticed his friend's attitude returning to normal. Before then, he'd been a haunted, tortured shell of himself, racked with sleepless nights and dread feelings of guilt.  
  
"The first gauntlets were endless, only stopping after I woke up, but the one with the Colonel had an ending; it was quite decisive," Zero finally answered him, his eyes swimming with grief. "I struck him once on his left shin; once he stumbled back, I clipped him on his sword-arm and plunged my sword through his chest, down to the hilt. As the Colonel slumped backward, I caught a glimpse of his dead face, and I felt myself beginning to laugh, slowly at first, but it quickly turned into a cackle. I didn't think I was capable of making that noise…"  
  
"The same way you finished him at the launch site all that time ago…" X nodded in understanding, though it certainly didn't make things any easier for Zero. What he'd just described to X reminded the blue Hunter of something Zero's Maverick form would've done, taking so much pleasure in each shot of pain delivered to his enemies. Thinking about the setting for the nightmares – a look-a-like model of the Zero Virus crater – made X cringe. Zero's psyche was definitely playing a cruel, symbolic joke on him, and looking at his fevered gaze now, X was sorry that he brought up the subject.  
  
"I don't know; it just makes me wonder…" He absently said, not looking at X directly. "Maybe I didn't have to wait until the Eurasia incident to bring the Maverick out of me; maybe Sigma was right when he accused me of enjoyment when I killed Colonel…and Iris…"  
  
"Still thinking about her?" X nodded at the mention of Zero's deceased girlfriend. "I know it's never left your mind since the end of the Repliforce War…but she was crazed, Zero. She attacked you and you defended yourself the best way you could. She didn't give you much choice."  
  
Zero lowered his head thoughtfully, folding his arms tight to his chest. X stepped in front of him, trying to catch his attention.  
  
"At least she died happy, like her brother," he offered with a tone of optimism. "She was next to you, and she was smiling."  
  
Zero shook his head doubtfully.  
  
"But did I have to be so eager to kill them …" He murmured to himself. "I could feel it within me, the need to…"  
  
"What did you say?" X asked as his friend turned away from him, heading back toward Saratoga Tower.  
  
Zero glanced back at him with a smile, his confidence looking somewhat restored.  
  
"Don't worry about it, X," He reassured him. "Sorry I brought this up and put a damper on things; I just think too much sometimes about things I can't change. But thanks for listening – I think I'll be sleeping a bit better tonight. I'll check back in the tower just in case we missed any stragglers. You'd better wait out here and keep resting until the med teams arrive."  
  
"But…!" Before X could get any more words out, Zero had disappeared through the elegantly carved entrance to Saratoga Tower and was gone. "You could at least think of a better excuse to go off on your own…"  
  
He dropped down next to the corpses of Getero and Markinson, his own thoughts buzzing. As charismatic and arrogant as Zero's outward attitude showed at times, he was fuller of more personal questions than most Reploids that X knew.  
  
::First, the visions about the wild-haired man and the bloody lab, and now his more recent history's scars are beginning to rear themselves…::  
  
He felt powerless to help Zero out of whatever funk he'd fallen into, but X still found it very strange that Zero's feelings about the Repliforce would seep out of his consciousness now, so many months and two larger crises after the organization crumbled.  
  
The humming of an approaching motor brought X back to reality for the moment, and as he glanced down the tarnished and broken road, he spotted three armored hover-transports soaring toward them, each of them bearing first aid symbols. He breathed a sigh of relief – the Maverick Hunter Medical Division was always exceptional at their jobs, especially with response time.  
  
He frowned one more time as he glanced at the corpses of Getero and Markinson, scowling at the constant frustrations surrounding him. X decided to put away his grief for the moment – he had some parts to replace and a capacity conflict to file with General Signas.  
  
***  
  
Signas tapped his foot impatiently, glancing up at the ornamental clock fixed above the far wall of the conference room. He scowled, realizing that only two minutes had passed since the previous time he'd checked but feeling like two hours had gone by.  
  
"I hate diplomacy sometimes," He casually said to the female Reploid sitting at the polished oak table that stretched the length of the furnished, air-conditioned room. "I've got more important things to do than this."  
  
Alia laughed lightly as she glanced up from the files she was studying.  
  
"You say that exact same line every time the delegate from the Cerebra Group comes by," She informed him, shaking her head slightly. "This sort of work comes with the job description, right? Besides, without their help, who knows how far behind in the aid department we'd be."  
  
Signas supposed so. He certainly wasn't a philanthropist like the members of the Cerebra Group were, and as such he knew next to nothing about the humanitarian concerns that they addressed throughout the dying world. With the humans residing in the Underground attending to their own needs and with the Earth in ruins after the Maverick riots during the Eurasia crisis, someone had to look after the concerns of the remaining Reploid civilians that were residing on the surface. The Cerebra Group had taken charge of that responsibility since the Nightmare Crisis had passed, becoming the largest supplier of aid to the crumbling cities of Earth.   
  
He supposed that he could respect the efforts of the organization – they'd donated over one hundred thousand zenni's worth of aid in the forms of checks and energy supplements through the Maverick Hunter Civilian Protectorate Division over the past six months. The general could definitely sense a difference in the morale of the citizens of Talara ever since the aid packages had started coming. With any luck, the entire city that sprawled for hundreds of miles around Maverick Hunter Headquarters would be fully functional within another half year.  
  
::But there must be an easier way to go about this…this is the third meeting that's taken place this week.::  
  
Signas glanced over at the communications officer, nodding toward the extensive paperwork laid out in front of her. From what he could gather, they were radio logs from the previous day's recon teams. He never knew how she could continually study those reports without losing her mind – all of the technobabble submitted from the survey teams alone would be enough to make his CPU explode.  
  
"Things could be worse, I guess," He said to Alia with a friendly smile. "I could have your job."  
  
"Very funny; you'd be surprised at what kind of information I can drag out of these reports," She answered. "I've still got another cache of logs to go through after this one. Then, I'll finally be caught up on everything."  
  
Signas shook his head in minor trepidation.  
  
"You're going to burn your logic circuitry out if you keep this up," He suggested to her.  
  
"You're not the only work-aholic in this organization, Signas," Alia replied. "But, if it'll make you feel better, you'll be happy to know that I do have other plans for later today. X is due out of the repair ward late this afternoon and we're going out on the town for a bit as soon as I finish my progress reports."  
  
"A little recreation for a change?" Signas was genuinely surprised, considering her consistency of staying overtime during all of her shifts. He admired her for that persistence; that was why he always wanted her expertise and level-headed nature on even the greatest of crises, including the Eurasia incident and the Nightmare Crisis. But another reason for his astonishment was that this meant Alia was finally taking some time off from a smaller side-project she'd devoted her remaining energies to. "Then I trust that Gate's purification is proceeding better than expected?"  
  
Alia dropped the sheet that was in her hand onto the table, a solemn look crossing her face. Obviously, the uprising he'd tried to lead six months ago was still fresh in her mind.  
  
"It's going slow, actually," She informed him. "The Zero Virus has dug deep into his CPU and life support systems and doesn't want to let go. For every hour of restructuring that the med-teams try to do to his programming, we're lucky if we can extract a tenth of a percent of the viral-ridden code. I finally decided to let Gate rest for today…let him keep sleeping."  
  
Signas patted Alia on the shoulder reassuringly.  
  
"If there's a chance that we can scrape that virus out of him, then I'm more than willing to take it. He was a great scientific mind once, and from the way you spoke of him upon his recovery by X, I feel that he can be a great asset to the recovery effort upon his reactivation. It would certainly allow him to redeem himself after his past transgressions."  
  
Alia smiled with a bit more optimism as she shot Signas a mischievous look.  
  
"And was that the only reason you granted me permission to oversee his purification? Or was it a favor to X for having dragged his limp body from the wreck of his lab?"  
  
"Oh, come on, you know that your group holds a special place within me," The general laughed. "We've been nearly to the depths of Hell and back again during the last months, and I don't think I'd trust our Hunters with any other support team should another crisis arise."  
  
"I'm sure Douglas would be happy to hear that one," Alia continued, glancing back down at her files. "By the way, what's this about a few new Hunters being transferred to X's unit?"  
  
Signas nodded briskly, remembering the datum.  
  
"The Forge brothers, yes," He answered her. "Since Getero and Markinson were taken out in the sniper ambush yesterday, X's unit is below operating capacity. Gavin and Richter Forge will be taking their places."  
  
Alia blinked her large eyes in bewilderment.  
  
"Reploids with double designations? Is there any particular reason for that, or was it a personal quirk of their creator?"  
  
Signas shook his head as he glanced at Alia, amused by her constant curiosity of any incoming Hunters. It seemed to be one of her more natural characteristics, always asking questions.  
  
"The two were originally meant as human relations Reploids, and they were designated with names similar to humans just as a personal comfort to help them blend in a bit better," Signas explained to her, his memory of their files nearly photographic. He always made sure he perused such documents multiple times when considering new Hunter candidates, especially in the elite units. "They served the Repliforce during its glory days – once the war began, they were remodeled into combat attire and trained in the fighting arts to be used in their elite units."  
  
"Hold on a second," Alia's head snapped up, the mention of the defunct organization stirring emotions within her. "Repliforce…?"  
  
"I know, that's what I thought at first, too," Signas replied. "But the story behind these two is quite interesting. According to speculation from a few background reports, Richter was scheduled to act as a right-hand man to the Colonel once his training was complete. His size and potential were comparable, and he possessed the killer instinct common in most Repliforce elite warriors."  
  
"What stopped that from happening?" Alia asked, rotating the chair around to face Signas directly. "Besides, I thought that most of the survivors of the Repliforce collapse found their way onto the mercenary circuit after the destruction of the Final Weapon."  
  
"Those two never lasted that long into the war," Signas told her, sparking more interest in Alia's large blue eyes. She rested her head on her hand, staring up at Signas with even more curiosity. "Soon after their remodeling and the Repliforce's formal declaration of war against the humans, Richter and Gavin rebelled against their directives and defected to our organization. It was with their assistance that we were able to pinpoint the tropical and arctic Repliforce weapon sites."  
  
Alia looked utterly amazed.  
  
"That's a rare case…there was no inducement within their circuitry besides their own free will?"  
  
"Apparently not, which astonished our senior staff at the time," Signas nodded his head in agreement with Alia's disbelief. "After so much prior experience with the humans and working side-by-side with them on so many joint initiatives, they couldn't bring themselves to betray them by following the Repliforce's claim to war against them. They didn't see it as justified."  
  
"What about the accusations of the Repliforce turning Maverick? They didn't carry any grudges against us or the humans for the claim?"  
  
Signas shook his head, leaning casually on the oak table. The delegate was running a few minutes late, so it wasn't worth staying completely formal for the moment.  
  
"The Sky Lagoon Massacre was felt by everyone, but while most of the Repliforce lost their heads and went with their tempers when the accusations began flying, Gavin and Richter suspected Maverick involvement from the beginning. But even just attempting to make a case out of it nearly got them scrapped on the spot, as were any other Repliforce troops that objected to the bold decision for whatever reason."  
  
"I was in training during the outbreak of the Repliforce War," Alia added. "The General and the Colonel were both pretty much war-crazy as far as I can remember. Sigma's 'influence' probably assisted them in that regard – before the Sky Lagoon Massacre, they seemed a bit too level-headed to pass that kind of a levy on their own troops."  
  
"That's the rumor, anyway," Signas replied. "But after the information they provided us, we were more than happy to offer them a place within our ranks. They've been serving with the Eighth Unit since then, and I think it's time we placed them in the upper units, where their skills would be better appreciated and utilized. Under X's leadership, they will only become more powerful."  
  
Signas glanced back at the clock, nodding back toward the communications officer.  
  
"In fact, you may run into them on your way out this evening. They're due to report in a few hours."  
  
"I can hardly wait," Alia replied with little enthusiasm. Signas could understand the com officer's slight mistrust – even before the war, Repliforce and the Maverick Hunters had never existed on the best of terms, mostly because of professional jealousy. But he cast aside his doubts about moving the brothers up into the Seventeenth Unit. Their stellar performances under their previous assignment had been more than enough to convince Signas of their potential. As much as he hated to admit it, they would be better supports than Getero or Markinson ever were. Richter had received training commendations in several hand-held weapons, and Gavin's accuracy with a sniper rifle was unparalleled by any Hunter in the regular units.  
  
The call button suddenly chimed at the triangular-pointed doorway. Signas immediately straightened himself and cleared his throat. It was time to play diplomat.  
  
"I suppose that's my cue," Alia said as she hastily gathered up her papers and shoved them into her folder. "I'll probably head over to the lounge and get some quiet work space there. Good luck, Signas."  
  
"Enjoy your evening, Alia," Signas courteously bowed his head as Alia stepped out into the corridor and hurried off. Seconds later, a tall, slender humanoid Reploid strode into the conference room, a broad smile on his well-groomed face and an air of confidence in his steps. He was dressed in a finely tailored suit and carried an organized, paper-clipped manilla folder under his right arm. He greeted Signas with a firm handshake.  
  
"A pleasure that we meet again, general," He cordially said in a well-tuned voice. "Forgive my tardiness; I did not expect to be bogged down in security clearances for so long. I should have allotted some more time."  
  
"I wouldn't worry; I expected as much," Signas replied in an equal tone. "But welcome back to our base, Delegate Thell; I envy your humanoid make – it allows you to don other more stylish apparel other than body armor."  
  
"A fortunate pleasure for me, general," He replied mirthfully. "And please, call me Saren."  
  
"Very well, Saren," Signas motioned for the elderly delegate to take a seat at one of the discussion table's cushioned metal seats. "I am most interested in the latest aid proposal from the Cerebra Group."  
  
  
***  
  
The meeting was going well, as anticipated. Saren's diplomatic prowess seemed to visibly impress General Signas to a large degree. It was well-known that the Maverick Hunter supreme commander had distaste for negotiations and diplomacy, but as Saren continued to fluently go on about the predicted mortality rates of certain sectors of Talara, he could sense that he had Signas completely at attention.  
  
::Just as well.:: He mused as he kept his audio receptors finely tuned. The internal radio installed within his cranium was fully functional and ready to receive any short-burst radio messages from the opposite pieces within the skulls of the two bodyguards who'd escorted him inside the Hunter base. The dutiful general would not hear anything, but Saren would hear it all, loud and clear. And if past performance was any indication, Scorpulos and Terrahawk would be releasing the package momentarily. While they certainly weren't as qualified as Dynamo for jobs like infiltrating the HYBRID organization – a task that Saren planned to have the arrogant bounty hunter undertake within the next forty-eight hours – they had been faithful and very efficient as his right and left hand men as long as they received their weekly allowance of zenni.   
  
"…and so I firmly believe that the southeast quadrants of Talara could benefit from increased rationing of energy supplements."  
  
Signas glanced at him thoughtfully, tapping the table with his thick fingers.  
  
"And how can you justify this? We certainly can't play favorites with the donations."  
  
"As a humanitarian, I would consider such an act to be blasphemous if unjustified," Saren agreed, folding his hands. "But as my colleagues have indicated a significant absence of Maverick Hunter protection and irregular visits from the aid dispersal groups, the quadrants could benefit greatly from some boosted donations…"  
  
Saren continued on in his speech, laying out explicit and detailed information from his mental subject knowledge and from several reports that his subordinates had prepared for the meeting. It seemed to at least keep the general asking inquiries, which was all Saren needed for the time being. He nearly laughed aloud on a few occasions as Signas blurted out question after ridiculous question.  
  
::A great mind for the military, but nothing more. How typical of the brash Maverick Hunters – only built and bred for war; why can they not have appreciation for some of the finer qualities of this planet?::  
  
In truth, the entire complex was as good as one absurdly large barrack for housing soldiers. Aside from the wealth of information technology stored within the walls of Maverick Hunter Headquarters and the immense, double-decker fountain that sat in the middle of the main Hub, there had been nothing to give any kind of life to the facility. As Saren and his two assistants had entered the base earlier, his processor almost turned inside out at the incredible lack of decorum he'd witnessed. It was a personal quirk, he had to admit, but it gave Saren even more of a reason for hating all of the soldiers that worked within the facility, even more of a reason for destroying every last one of them.  
  
Moments after Signas's eighth redundant, asinine question concerning the job descriptions of the aid workers, Saren's internal radio blared within his head. He remained calm and continued discussing the contribution details with General Signas as Scorpulos's raspy voice rang in through the radio link.  
  
"Sorry about the delay, sir, but security's been tightened since our last drop-off. Terrahawk's got the surrounding Hunters distracted with a bit of an aerial show, and I've located the correct access panel. The micro-bugs will be within the system in minutes."  
  
"Are you okay, Saren?" Signas noticed the delegate trailing off slightly in his speech. Saren cleared his throat, feigning exhaustion.  
  
"Forgive me, sir," He forced a small cough, mentally cursing for nearly casting suspicion upon himself. "It has been a busy week in the organization, and I have not had sufficient time to sleep in the past two days."  
  
"I understand what you mean," Signas chuckled with empathy. "Tell me, Saren, this Cerebra Group has donated considerably to the restoration of this city over the past months…forgive my curiosity, but where have these funds been coming from? Surely, even the Cerebra Group must be feeling the impact of the Great Collapse."  
  
Saren laughed, pleasantly surprised to find another subject to occupy Signas with. There wasn't much to hide, really – Saren had built the group from the bottom up slowly and patiently, collecting monthly funds from the local government after claiming their status as a rising philanthropist function. After participating in the recovery of the surrounding cities after six separate crises and collecting bonus fees from the government because of their efforts, the company had soon grown into a poster child for the charitable, self-made millionaire. He had geared roughly ninety-five percent of the Cerebra Group's wealth toward its outward function, but that extra five percent had been carefully concealed from the records, being meant for the Cerebra Group's 'side' projects, which would ultimately spell doom for Signas and his precious army.  
  
As Saren explained more about the Cerebra Group's origins to the intrigued general, he received another radio call from Scorpulos, who was sounding confident and assuring. Saren was pleased – despite his shadier history among the Reploid bounty hunting circuit, Scorpulos knew how to deliver when presented with enough zenni.  
  
"Delivery complete, Saren. Five hundred more micro-bugs are inside the defensive arrays; there's no sign of their detection at the moment. I believe that this operation is a complete success."  
  
Saren smirked inwardly, letting his pride show on his sharp facial features as he led the general on. They had made it too easy, really – even the great supreme commander of the Maverick Hunter army had no idea of the true purposes of the aid negotiations. Here he was, so eager to listen to the Cerebra Group's history like a brainless schoolchild while his own interior defenses were secretly being triggered for later compromise. It would only take a few more visits to completely infest the entire Maverick Hunter defensive and communication networks.  
  
He relaxed his body and leaned back in his chair leisurely as he addressed the curious General Signas. He basked in his ingenuity – these 'legendary' warriors were so embarrassingly easy to deceive, especially if one played the correct part to the hilt.  
  
::'Up and down, up and down; I will lead them up and down: I am fear'd in field and town.  
Goblin, lead them up and down.'::  
***  
  
X stepped into the hangar, his side still aching from the surgery he'd received upon his return to the base the previous evening. His body would take a few days to break in the new components, and until then, he would be forced to deal with the tension.   
  
The pain and weariness that had seemingly left X's system after Zero bailed him out of the sniper ambush had returned by the time the med teams had brought them back, and Lifesaver had ordered him placed in the Infirmary Wing as soon as he'd looked at the Maverick Hunter's disheveled condition. As for Zero, he'd slipped away from the medics during X's hospitalization, and he hadn't heard from him since their small chat near the sniper towers, which was very unusual. Whenever one of them was laid up with injuries, the other was there most of the time to provide some company. Since his absence, X had to be content with making cheap small talk with the protocol-driven medical staff.  
  
::Probably still obsessing over those dreams of his…:: He mused as his boots echoed on the grated floor of the plain, expansive Hangar TG-2. He still wished that he could've given Zero some better advice on how to cope with the pain he was still feeling regarding those past events, but his friend was as stubborn and prideful as he was tenacious in battle – Zero would sort the visions out on his own, and he would hopefully be back to normal shortly. And until he did, there was no sense alarming any of the others – Zero's recent nightmares would remain a safely guarded secret.  
  
X shook it off, remembering his own plans for the evening and glad that the strict, perfectionist Lifesaver had cleared him from the Infirmary Wing in time to attend them. Alia had left him a message during his surgery to meet her in the old hang-out spot for the Seventeenth Unit, and from there they would take a trip around the rebuilt areas of Talara for some downtime. Alia seemed to feel somewhat forward when she first asked X about doing anything in the off-hours, though as he thought about it, Zero's mocking inferences echoed within his skull. He shook his head with an internal smirk as he slipped through the array of parked Gunner Cycles and Assault Runners – X still maintained that Alia was more interested in analyzing radio code than starting something with a fellow Hunter, even if X had been interested. In his mind, she just wanted something to break from her stressful schedule of acting as Unit Seventeen's chief communications officer and attempting to revive Gate to his former self.  
  
Weaving around another half-repaired Assault Runner, X spotted Alia sitting on a large metal storage cube. She was chatting with Douglas, who was busily performing some welding on the wing of another sleek-looking Assault Runner. X shook his head at the mechanic's one-track nature – since the production of the tiny gunships had been green-lit from the R & D technicians, he'd become obsessed with keeping Unit Seventeen's assigned models in peak physical condition. X supposed that it would be to their benefit if the Assault Runners were ever to come into use, but he would certainly hate to lose one of them on the battle ground – it would probably cause Douglas to suffer an emotional overload.  
  
Alia noticed X sauntering toward them, smiling and waving him over to them.  
  
"You're late, X," She greeted him, hopping off of the box. "What happened, did Lifesaver keep you imprisoned for a bit longer than you expected?"  
  
"You're good at guessing these things, Alia," He replied, nodding in friendly greeting to her and Douglas as the mechanic turned from his work, returning the gesture. "He wasn't satisfied until all of my circuitry was at one hundred percent functioning capacity and in perfect alignment with all of my current body parts. He also devotes every bit of energy to me whenever I'm held up in there – you'd think he doesn't have anything better to do."  
  
"He's just trying to keep the best Hunter in the army in peak condition," Alia explained teasingly, glancing at some of X's new armor plating. "Lifesaver did a splendid job on you – you look brand new."  
  
"I'd still rather keep my old parts and not nearly get blown to bits by a plasma grenade," X admitted.  
  
"I'd agree with that one any day," Douglas nodded as he flipped his ruby-shaded goggles down over his eyes and continued welding a fresh piece of armor plating onto the orange-reddish wing of the parked Assault Runner. He laughed aloud, his good humor always in high form. "But you did succeed in giving us quite a scare yesterday, X, especially Alia. You should've heard her when your radio link got cut off – she was nearly hysterical trying to get you back on the line."  
  
Alia responded by walking over to Douglas and smacking him on the back of his head. The startled mechanic fumbled the welder in his hands, burning one of his fingers with the powerful flame jet. The instrument clattered onto the floor as Douglas clutched his red-hot finger tightly with his other hand, yelping out loud and blowing on it.  
  
"I'd keep my mouth shut if I were you, Douglas," she grumbled toward him, picking up a coolant spray from the nearly toolbox and spraying down Douglas's burning appendage. He breathed gratefully, letting the gel-like spray solidify on his finger. "Of course I was concerned; X is part of my unit, and he's one of our best Hunters! I don't want to imagine what would've happened if we'd lost him."  
  
Douglas mumbled a curse under his breath, but peeked back at Alia with a smirk.  
  
"You mean if YOU lost him…"  
  
"What was that?"  
  
Douglas picked up the welder, returning to his work with a small smirk on his face.  
  
"Oh, nothing; it was nothing at all." He replied, clicking the welder on and resuming his work fastening the panel. "So where are the two of you headed tonight? There's not exactly much to do around town these days."  
  
"Just a friendly night out, Douglas," X said, motioning toward Alia. "We were probably going to take a walk around the north sectors for a while, check out the local nightlife. Both of us could use it after all this time."  
  
"That's right, neither of you have taken any leave since before the end of the Nightmare Crisis," Douglas noted. "And I think it's the least they could give you after the sniper ambush yesterday. I was sorry to hear about your back-ups…I knew Getero well; he was getting a side-education in basic mechanics before he was taken out."  
  
"That reminds me," X turned to Alia. "Sorry to put this off any longer, but I did promise to meet up with the new transfers from the Eighth Unit before I checked out today; they're probably in the transfer briefing with the general now. Signas told me that these two held some kind of special potential."  
  
"What, the two Repliforce defectors?" Douglas glanced back at them with a pseudo-nasty look on his face. X felt his processor twisting – even with more upbeat Reploids like Douglas, old grudges never seemed to die with the Maverick Hunters, especially since the brutal confrontation with the Repliforce had cost the Maverick Hunters more soldiers than any other previous Maverick uprising.  
  
But X didn't want to be deterred; he was, after all, a commander of an elite Hunter unit, and he was obligated to act as such, without hostilities or prejudice. He addressed both Alia and Douglas.  
  
"They've survived in our ranks since then, and once they register for active duty within this unit, I want them to be respected by every member of the support team, just as you would respect me."  
  
"Whatever you say," Douglas replied nonchalantly. X didn't take too much offense to the indifference – despite any rare qualms he had with X's leadership of Unit Seventeen, Douglas usually followed his orders to the letter once the opportunity presented itself to do so. "But I wouldn't trust them so much in the elite units. After all, they walked out on the Repliforce; what's to stop them from doing the same to us?"  
  
"Would you care to say that a bit louder, grease-monkey?" A thick, rumbling voice rang out from behind X and Alia. Douglas suddenly looked awfully nervous as the bellowing tone reached his audio receptors. The three Hunters glanced toward the voice's origin, and X heard Alia gasp slightly as they spotted a large armored Reploid standing no more than thirty feet away. His massive arms were folded across his broad chest, and his deep steel blue eyes were shooting a very irritated glance toward Douglas.  
  
He looked amused at the mechanic's awe-filled stare.  
  
"Maybe you'd like me to give you a nice tan with that welder of yours…"  
  
Douglas drew back at the sight of the black-haired sentinel, throwing up his hands and pasting a goofy smile on his face as his welder once again dropped onto the floor, the escaping fire nearly burning his foot.  
  
"No, no, no, that's quite alright!" He guffawed, jumping away from the searing flame. "You must be one of the Forge brothers; I'm the unit's engineer; welcome to Unit Seventeen!!"  
  
The burly Reploid nodded more approvingly, his long black mustache nearly touching his silver-colored armor. The ensemble he was donning was covered in multi-colored sigils that blended in nicely with the circuit relays lining his lower chest. Strapped diagonally across his back by a tight strip of durilium was appeared to be a slender silver laser pike, the spearhead deactivated with the weapon in safety mode. His jet-black hair was slicked back and well kept; it probably would've been shoulder-length had he not tied it back in a ponytail.  
  
"That's what I thought," He replied as he approached X. The blue Hunter looked upward at the imposing figure, suddenly feeling incredibly small. It seemed to fit with a joke Zero had thrown at him as of late – a few of the Reploid developers were going with bigger and better models as a cynical shot toward X, who, aside from the powerful X-Buster on his arm and his reputation, never appeared as the most threatening Hunter on the force.  
  
"Lieutenant First Class, Richter Forge, reporting for duty. It's an honor to meet you, sir," The soldier stood at attention, saluting him and speaking clearly and distinctly. X was taken aback slightly at the show of good manners after the exchange with Douglas, but he nonetheless returned the gesture. Considering the differences between the two, X felt a tad unfit to command such a huge, gallant-looking warrior.  
  
Before the Unit Seventeen commander could introduce himself, a smaller Reploid about X's size appeared from behind Richter, donning light tan armor with smaller, dark markings covering him. It looked more like camouflage armor than standard field defense, a type meant for more rugged Hunters, usually snipers and trackers. The soldier's more boyish, clean-shaven face, and carefully trimmed dark hair set him apart from typical Hunters in that field. His serious eyes were filled with intelligence, giving him the look of an out-of-place scholar rather than a soldier. He nudged Richter aside a bit, saluting as sternly as the first Reploid had.  
  
"Lieutenant Third Class, Gavin Forge, reporting. It is a privilege to serve you, Commander X," His voice was rich, respectful, and mature; X didn't expect it for someone of his young appearance.  
  
X saluted what he assumed to be the younger of the Forge brothers as he had done the first, glancing over the duo with intrigue. Both of them looked capable enough and well committed, the Maverick Hunter emblems carefully polished on their left shoulders. However, as X examined them more closely, he noticed another familiar logo emblazoned on their opposite shoulders. He shook his head, motioning to the large, star-encrusted 'R' on Gavin's upper right arm.  
  
"I didn't know that the Repliforce logo was standard regulation for Maverick Hunters in the Eighth Unit," He said to Gavin, who remained unfazed as he replied to his commander.  
  
"It is not against regulation, sir; as long as the Hunter emblem is clearly visible, we may wear our creators' sigil as a decorative addition to our attire."  
  
X heard Alia snuff slightly; he couldn't help but agree a bit with her. Keeping the logos of their old group was a move that reeked of either arrogance or fierce loyalty – despite their misgivings with the Repliforce, Gavin and Richter apparently still held strong to the old name. X could imagine that they'd suffered a few insults because of it.  
  
But the young Gavin had presented a valid point – there was no regulation against using the sigil as a decoration on their armor. Besides, they had an equally prominent Maverick Hunter symbol on their designs anyhow, and their orderly manner somehow made up for the unwelcome blemish.  
  
"Very well…" X stepped back, trying to remember the files he'd studied in the med ward in preparation for their arrival. "At ease. Tell me, Richter, how much combat experience do you possess?"  
  
The Forges relaxed, though they maintained a straight stance with dignified speech. X was impressed – Repliforce had taught them well. They seemed a bit taken aback as X addressed Richter by his first name, but most new recruits reacted similarly – X's command structure was a bit more relaxed than most unit leaders.  
  
"I participated in the civil defense of Talara during the Eurasia incident and the Nightmare Crisis," Richter explained, drawing out his pike and igniting the spearhead, which flared to life in a blazing silver flash. He stepped back to get some space and casually twirled the pike, performing a few basic thrusts, slashes, and combination moves without much effort. Zero would've been impressed – not too many of even the larger Hunter veterans could wield that weapon without expending a great deal of energy. "During the time, I earned a Class A Hunter license and a Master certificate in this baby. There's no better weapon than this!"  
  
X motioned to Gavin, who responded by igniting a pair of laser daggers, the weapons jutting out of his knuckles. Alia and Douglas reacted with surprise – it was a new weapon on them. Gavin made a few random cutting motions across the air, speaking to X at the same time.  
  
"Repli--" He froze, clearing his throat. "My old training included mastery of small melee combat, and since the end of the war, I've been training as a sniper. My scores on the annual proficiency tests were among the highest on the force."  
  
X nodded, smiling approvingly as both of the brothers sheathed their weapons.  
  
"Welcome to the Seventeenth Unit, Gavin and Richter," He bowed his head courteously. "I'm looking forward to having you as my supports."  
  
"Do you have any current orders for us, sir?" Gavin abruptly said, his stern, rigid form restored.  
  
X shook his head.  
  
"If you're down here, then I suppose you've already had the formal interview with General Signas?"  
  
"He was very busy in a meeting, actually. It was something about aid dispersal or something along those lines," Richter replied a bit more casually. "We recognized you when we saw you heading into the Hangar area from the Hub. We figured we'd introduce ourselves to our new commander during our wait."  
  
X was a bit surprised – not many had taken such initiative to seek out their unit commanders before the general's opening brief with them, mostly because it was common knowledge that Signas was to give them a low-down of everyone involved with their assigned units. However, X did know that if Signas had become freed up during their time spent in the Hangar area, the desk clerk would be in a frenzy attempting to locate them.  
  
The other reason that X was a bit astonished by the news was that the aid negotiations were taking much longer than usual – the Cerebra Group delegate usually ended his talks by about an hour ago. It was unusual for an organized schedule-keeper like Signas to receive any guest that long either.  
  
"Very well, then report to the brief for further instructions," X ordered them. "I'll be taking leave for the rest of the evening; if you have any questions about your transfer, feel free to ask Signas."  
  
"Thank you, sir!" Both Forge brothers echoed at the same time.  
  
"Dismissed."  
  
Richter and Gavin bowed lowly before spinning on their heels and marching out of the hangar.  
  
***  
  
As soon as they were out in the hall, Richter turned back to address his brother, who looked to be contemplating something. He always rolled his eyes at that – Richter didn't think that there was time where Gavin WASN'T thinking critically about something.  
  
"Well? What did you think of him?" He asked in a friendly tone. Gavin usually got nervous around the first day of meeting a new commander, and today had been no exception. Richter had been surprised with the professional manner in which the studious brother of his had conducted himself.  
  
Gavin glanced up at Richter's towering form, shrugging his shoulders.  
  
"He certainly wasn't as enormous as his reputation makes him out to be," He replied as the two Hunters exited out into the Hub. "At least not physically. He looked…more ordinary, more modest than I ever would've imagined, and his personality was definitely not as crass and tactless as his fighting style. He also seemed very young considering his status within the organization."  
  
"I asked what you thought of him, not for a character analysis," Richter laughed. "You've been spending way too much time with your nose in the research files again. Maybe under X, you'll finally learn to lighten up for once. He seems to be more informal than Commander Valasko, more personable."  
  
Gavin snuffed, stopping momentarily and leaning on the gold-colored railing.  
  
"I suppose you're going to let that detract from your loyalty programs?" He said as Richter glanced around the gigantic, spacious Hub. The triple-decker fountain – which by far dominated the room, standing three stories tall – added a lot of life to the room, and the ring that stretched around the monstrous fountain was well-polished and possessed a rich gold shade. Being in the Eighth Unit, Richter and Gavin had been stationed at a satellite outpost several miles outside Talara, which wasn't nearly as lavish as the main HQ. He was curious to see what their quarters would look like.  
  
"No, but it should make our careers a bit easier to endure," He replied to Gavin. "Besides, I don't think either of us have a right to talk about loyalty programs. I'm still amazed that we got a chance to make it in the Maverick Hunter force, let alone into the elite units."  
  
"At least he wasn't as objecting to our sigils as Valasko was," Gavin said optimistically. "I figured he would've had us tear them off as soon as he saw them."  
  
"And I would've torn his head off if he had tried," Richter grumbled. "I may have our loyalties with the Maverick Hunters, but my creators were of the Repliforce guard. Despite their ill turns before the end of the empire, they did give both of us life, and we owe them in that regard."  
  
"Calm yourself, brother; I didn't mean it that way," Gavin held up his hands, trying to assuage his older sibling's irritation. "I merely made the point in support of our commander's honor and respect for our own personal beliefs. I have a feeling he won't try to patronize or downcast us like Valasko and the Eighth Unit soldiers did."  
  
Richter glanced over at him, smiling confidently again.  
  
"Then you will pledge your loyalty to him?" He asked. "And so soon? It took you weeks and some begging on my part before you would even acknowledge Valasko as a commander."  
  
"Valasko was a prejudiced, belligerent arm-chair commander," Gavin shot out, pushing away from. "For the moment, I will pledge myself to someone with the integrity and respect showed to both of us by Commander X."  
  
"As will I," Richter saluted Gavin twice, first with the common salute that the Maverick Hunters followed, and then by the extended arm salute of the Repliforce. Gavin replied in like kind, smiling at his brother. Richter motioned for him to follow. "Now let's see if we can't get in touch with General Signas – lord knows, it's been long enough."  
***  
  
"Huh, poster-childs for the model soldier," He observed moments after Richter and Gavin had stepped outside into the hallway, finally reclaiming the welder from the grated floor. "They look tough enough – if Repliforce had two guys like that on their side when you and Zero took them on, you might've had a tougher time of it against them."  
  
"Richter was supposed to be a right-hand man to the Colonel," X informed him, causing Douglas's eyes to brighten in amazement. "Anybody worthy enough to be picked for that is worth having on our side."  
  
"I'd agree; I may just get used to those two over time," Alia said, approaching X. "Are you ready to go, X? I'd rather not get out too late. I've got to report early tomorrow."  
  
"Sure, not a problem," X waved back toward Douglas. "You up to joining us, Douglas? You look like you could use a break!"  
  
X thought he heard Alia take a sharp breath, and Douglas glanced quickly over at her before replying.  
  
"Sorry, X," He motioned to the Assault Runner behind him. "I've got three more of these babies to overhaul, and I'm supervising the refueling of Unit Five and Unit Three's Gunner Cycles. I won't be done until the morning hours, if I'm lucky."  
  
"Well, good luck," X responded. "You're too much, Douglas – sooner or later, you're going to wear yourself out of this trade."  
  
"I wouldn't make any bets on that," Douglas laughed, waving them off as he returned to the tool shelf to retrieve a few more smaller parts. "You two have fun! Enjoy yourselves for a change!"  
  
X and Alia exited the hangar, proceeding through the steel-lined corridor that led back to the Hub.  
  
"Are you okay, Alia?" X noticed that she was being unusually quiet, especially since the introduction of the Forge brothers. "You look…tired."  
  
Alia shook her head, blinking her eyes rapidly.  
  
"Between the theft at Arsenal Number Nine and several other survey reports, this has been a busy week," She informed him. "It's also been getting the crews to perform maintenance on the equipment and trying to decrypt a ton of transmitted text data; I haven't had much room for sleep."  
  
"Well, look at it this way: we'll at least be enjoying a night off for the first time in--"  
  
A sudden beeping interrupted his sentence, and X groaned as he activated his internal radio. He was getting a call from somewhere in the base. He felt his power core sinking – he knew what was coming.  
  
"This is X," He spoke aloud, the radio's small link picking up his voice.  
  
"X, this is General Signas with a Priority One message. Sorry, commander, but we're going to have to cancel your shore leave for the moment – we've just intercepted some critical information on a case you've been following for some time."  
  
X's eyes lit up as Alia watched him, curious to know what was going on.  
  
"General…" X smiled confidently. "Don't toy with me here…are you saying what I think you're saying?"  
  
Signas laughed through the other of the communicator.  
  
"Fortunately for you, I'm about to make your evening a lot more interesting," He reported. "Yes, we've finally made a breakthrough in the HYBRID weapons organization case: bring Alia and meet us in the front of the Hub for further details. Signas out."  
  
X felt elated as Signas closed the link, smiling broadly. He'd waited since before the Nightmare Crisis to get something solid on the elusive black market group; if it was a Priority One message, then it had to be something that could lead to finally being able to find the group's main base of operations.  
  
"Somehow, I think we're going back to work tonight," Alia said with a bit of disappointment.  
  
X turned to her, feeling a bit embarrassed after his outburst.  
  
"Sorry, Alia; I'll take a rain-check on that tour," He motioned for her to hurry down the hall after him. "And you're right – we do have some work to do." 


	3. Chapter 2: Into the Fire

Chapter 2: Into the Fire  
  
The world around Zero was hazy and dark; as trails of purple mist drifted past him, he realized that he was alone. As he stepped through the shadowy place, he heard his footsteps echoing across a glass-like floor, the ground around his boots giving off a strange glow as he moved. Aside from that sound, the dark place was as silent and ominous as a graveyard.  
  
He cocked his head to the side as he felt his audios picking up faint whisperings from beyond the shroud of mist encroaching upon him. The voices were incoherent, fading in and out like a soft breeze and adding even more eeriness to the atmosphere. Zero could feel himself being surrounded by enemies as he moved through the darkness. They wanted to tear him apart, wanted to spill his blood on the floor of the foreboding arena and break his exoskeleton into dust.  
  
Zero wouldn't let them, feeling his courage and tension rising as he drew his slender Z-Sabre from the scabbard attached to his back. The green flame from the sword added another luminous glow to the chilling aura permeating the realm. He held it firmly in his grasp, waiting for the first of his attackers to reveal themselves.  
  
Suddenly, a chittering from the left. Zero snapped his head toward that direction, seeing a small, agile figure leaping from the darkness. His form glowed with a brilliant white shade, and wisps of blue smoke were rising off of his body. The enemy brandished a pair of claws on his wrists, slashing at Zero as he flew at him. The Maverick Hunter deftly sidestepped the attack, decapitating the assailant in a swift fluid motion. Strangely, the apparition-like enemy sprayed blood and fluid from its separated body parts as it collapsed onto the ground, vanishing from sight.  
  
A roar pierced the darkness from behind Zero, and the Hunter quickly whirled around and swung harshly at whatever new threat had presented itself. The Z-Sabre pierced the gullet of a heavily armored ghost Reploid that stood nearly his height. The sword lodged itself partway into the side of the spirit's throat, turning the guttural bellow into a gurgling, bloody scream. Fluid escaped from the attacker's square mouth as he gazed with extreme pain at Zero. He didn't stop there - these weaklings had come to battle him, to kill him, and he would certainly not spare any of their pathetic lives.  
  
Tensing his arms, Zero pulled the Z-Sabre through the ghost's transparent throat. The material was as tenacious as high-grade armor plating, and it took a lot of effort from Zero to drag the flaming sword through it.  
  
::Urrgghh...come on and die already...::  
  
After several seconds of forceful exertion, the powerful Z-Sabre finally cut the rest of the way through the spirit's esophagus, and the burly Reploid's head dropped backward off of its neck. The grisly stump spurted blood onto Zero's armor as the vanquished ghost keeled over onto the ground. Just as before, the corpse vanished into the floor.  
  
Zero caught his breath, feeling an arrogant grin coming to his face as he hefted the sword into the air, eager for more enemies to challenge him. It was such an exhilarating sensation, to so thoroughly decimate any enemy that was stupid enough to cross his power.  
  
Two more forms darted out of the billowing mist toward him, brandishing heavy laser pikes. Zero met them as they charged toward him, impaling the first's midsection on his Z-Sabre and turning its flaming laser pike on the second attacker, jamming it into the spirit's right eye. He jerked his sword out of the first ghost's stomach as both dropped to the ground. He barely noticed that his enemies' blood was blurring his vision slightly; he didn't care - he wanted more.  
  
Wiping entrails away from his mouth, Zero felt himself laughing slightly. He leveled the sword toward the chittering shadows lurking behind the mist, shouting back in a defiant voice.  
  
"Is that the best you've got?! Come on, who else wants some!!"  
  
The spirits acknowledged him, and another pair emerged from the darkness, leveling high-powered rifles in his direction. Zero laughed even louder as he rushed toward them, no fear in his blazing eyes.  
  
A wave of laser fire from the rifles struck Zero's armor, right below his chest. The pain from the blasts stifled him momentarily, but as he felt his own fluid trickling down his armor, Zero's anger began to intensify. He hacked the closer spirit's gun to pieces with two strokes of his sword, crying out in a rage as he impaled the ghost with his sword and hacked its legs out from underneath it.  
  
The second gunner fired another volley of rounds into Zero's back, and the Hunter felt the back of his head getting pelted with hot energy. As fluids trickled down his back, Zero felt himself growing even more belligerent and incensed, not even acknowledging the pain as he clutched the hilt of the Z- Sabre and whirled toward the second attacker. He javelined the sword into the gunner's shoulder, causing the spirit to cry out and fall over, its weapon clattering to the floor several inches away. Zero stomped toward the ghost as it tried to reach for its rifle, and the Hunter responded to the action by tearing the Z-Sabre out of its shoulder and chopping the reaching arm clean off. As the ghost gazed up in horror at the berserker Hunter, Zero lifted the Z-Sabre high over his head with both hands and started to hack away at the defenseless soldier. Zero gutted the spirit in every way he could think of, tearing through its midsection and thoroughly dissecting its chest as blood flew everywhere, completely soaking the front of his armor.  
  
As a relief to the spirit perhaps, its body finally vanished as Zero brought down the sword where its head was. As the Z-Sabre cracked through the glass-like floor, he growled in frustration.  
  
"Dammit!! I wasn't finished yet; bring him back!!!"  
  
Out of the corner of his blood-filled eyes, Zero spotted three more enemies approaching from the rear. They were all twice his size and possessed long, slender laser sabers.  
  
Zero felt his good mood returning as he dropped the Z-Sabre to the ground - more enemies, more warrior wannabes who thought they could match up to him. He welcomed it, the greater odds and the constant stream of foes. They would be more bodies to add to the growing pile.  
  
Charging energy through his emergency weapons' systems, Zero pounded the ground with one of his fists, releasing a torrent of built-up energy from his exoskeleton. As the glass floor shattered beneath the force of the blow, the approaching enemies were instantly shredded in a torrent of superheated plasma orbs that discharged from his arm. The closer of the two attackers were incinerated, their entire upper bodies completely gone. The third had managed to keep most of his body parts, but not by a large margin; his luck certainly hadn't been enough to save his life, as he dropped down next to the corpses of his two compatriots.  
  
Oozing with arrogance and satisfaction at his handiwork, Zero snatched the loose Z-Sabre up from the ground, gazing around at the shadowy atmosphere with a crazed and defiant expression in his eyes. The shadows continued to whisper and murmur around him, and Zero finally let out a hardy raucous laugh at his enemies, swinging the vibrant sword randomly at the darkness. He silently dared all of them to come out and face him as he shouted irreverently into the stale air.  
  
"Yeehahahaha!! That's right!! No one messes with me!!" He boasted wildly as he ripped his weapon across the air almost uncontrollably. "Okay, bastards...who's next?!"  
  
His eyes had been nearly clouded over with fluid and blood by this point, and though his vision was impaired, it didn't stop his rage from escalating as he noticed no additional challengers stepping forward to meet him. The sudden cowardice served to do nothing more than infuriate Zero further - they were backing down, robbing him of the pleasure he would be taking in ending their pitiful existences.  
  
::They can't hide behind their smoke forever...I'll finish them myself!!!::  
  
He lurched forward into the void, trying to chase down the source of the murmuring echoes. He hurried across the floor for at least fifteen minutes, his pursuit guided by his hateful aggression as the voices continued to resonate inside his skull.  
  
"Stupid, freaking cowards!!" He screamed, lashing the Z-Sabre out at the surrounding mist. "Shut up!! Come out and face me!!"  
  
A sudden beacon of light emerged a short distance from him, and Zero felt elated at the coming of another foe. He braced himself, the blood dripping into his mouth tasting bittersweet as he prepared to siphon more of it from this next ghost.  
  
Instead of an armored warrior, however, Zero spotted a small, dainty figure approaching him slowly. He was motionless as he watched the glowing specter morph into a more solid appearance. He stopped breathing as he noticed the female figure and the long, flowing hair that nearly came down to the spirit's ankles. He clutched the Z-Sabre tightly - it was her.she'd been one of the ghostly masses conspiring against him in this dead world. Considering the circumstances of their previous meeting, he wasn't surprised.  
  
"Zero..." Iris's voice was soft and eerie, her high-pitched tone echoing clearly in the emptiness. Zero didn't move an inch. Though her eye sockets were hollow, he could sense a degree of shock on her face as she studied his blood-soaked form. "Why...? Why did it have to be that way..."  
  
"They were the enemies...my enemies...they needed to die! They HAD to die!!" Zero was forceful in his tone, his belligerence not dissuaded by Iris's appearance. He felt his vocal circuitry sinking, and his voice croaked out a guttural tone that was absent of its usual nobleness. "It was them or me...if X hadn't been so tricky at the virus crater, I'd have killed him, too...along with Sigma...and the commanders! General Signas, Lifesaver, Alia...I've seen them looking over their shoulders when I pass them by...they want me dead, want my CPU incinerated...but they'll never get to me!! None of them, understand?!"  
  
Iris's look was unchanged, though she turned away from Zero, speaking sorrowfully.  
  
"Was I your enemy...?" She inquired. "Was I just the victim of bloodlust...reduced to a meaningless shadow because of your rage...? I had so much I wanted to tell you, Zero...but you never listened...you were always so content with war...but never with me..."  
  
Zero felt his legs moving again, stepping slowly up to the spectral Iris as droplets of blood rolled off of his body and evaporated against the burning Z-Sabre. He raised the weapon, his low tone seeming louder then before.  
  
"You got in my way...always got in the way of what I needed to do to survive..." He began, measuring her up. Iris still had her back turned, and she was defenseless. "I just wanted you out of my life...to grow up inside and leave me ALONE!!!"  
  
He drew the weapon back and swiftly stabbed her through the heart, pressing the sword down with all its weight until the hilt touched her ghostly form. Iris collapsed onto the ground, blood draining from her wound like a waterfall. Strangely, there was no cry of pain, no sudden flinching of her body parts as she went down. But as Zero spat on his latest conquest, Iris turned her face back toward him, and suddenly, a bright flash interrupted Zero's senses.  
  
All of a sudden, he was staring at an apparition version of X beneath him, wounded in the same locale with the Z-Sabre fully driven into him. As Zero blinked his eyes rapidly, the vision switched back to Iris, then to X, and Iris again. He backed away, his fingers trembling as the ghost spoke to him again. Zero's processor began to cave in on itself as his audios recorded two different voice signatures - X's and Iris's. Even his passionate anger was stifled - what the hell was happening?  
  
"The shadow has won..." They said in perfect unison. "You chose bloodshed..."  
  
Suddenly, other objects - a large collection of shattered ghost corpses - appeared on the hazy ground. There were so many in fact, that Zero could hardly find room to maneuver. All of them were severely dilapidated; none of the corpses possessed all of their body parts, and most had been utterly massacred, their inner circuitry spilling out onto the floor along with pools of fluid and blood. Zero gazed in stunned horror at the visual, his eyes nearly not able to take the sight of so much death. As he stepped backward - nearly stumbling over a large corpse in the process - the X/Iris hybrid ghost spoke again, turning its head away from him.  
  
"...And they...have paid the price...along with me..."  
  
"No...stop...I had no choice!!" He rushed forward as the hybrid began to fade. But the mass of bodies was too deep, and he couldn't get to it in time. As Zero drove fruitlessly to catch the corpse, a faint ringing noise began intruding itself into the atmosphere, growing louder as the seconds drew onward. He pounded the ground with frustration as the Iris/X ghost had completely vanished, leaving only the blood-covered Z-Sabre where it had been slumped over.  
  
The frustrations and the sight of so much all-encompassing death around him welled up in his chest, and it took all of his emotional reserves to keep from screaming out in pure unmitigated rage at the injustices of this horrid place.  
  
As the ringing began to grow shriller, Zero looked up and found the dark world fading away around him, spinning out of existence like a whirlpool.  
  
Before he knew what happened, Zero was awake inside his resuscitation pod, his armor clean and his sheathed sword and helmet lying next to him on the cushioned bed. He let out a soft breath; the ringing noise had been the radio built into the pod - someone was transmitting a message to him. He silently thanked whoever was on the other end of the line; without their call to rouse him from his slumber, he would've still been imprisoned in that dreadful world.  
  
"Dammit..." He massaged his temples and reached out for the activation switch to the radio. "Another one...the worst yet..."  
  
He cleared his throat as Signas's visage materialized on the transparent side of the pod.  
  
"Did I catch you a bad time, commander?" He asked with concern, observing Zero's features carefully.  
  
"No, of course not, sir," Zero rubbed his thick blonde hair, reaching over to his right side to retrieve his helmet. "Just catching a nap after my shift."  
  
"Forgive the bad timing, commander, but we've just received some vital information regarding the HYBRID weapon organization. I'm on my way to the Hub to meet with X and his supports. We'll then be holding an emergency briefing in Command Central momentarily."  
  
"What's this got to do with me? That's Unit Seventeen's case file."  
  
"I'm aware of that, but considering the potential of this information, I think it's pertinent that you be in attendance. We may need your skill and experience to assist us on this case. Join us up in Command Central in five minutes."  
  
Zero sighed inwardly, but nodded dutifully to Signas.  
  
"I'm on my way."  
  
He closed the channel, slinging the sword over his back and jumping up out of the resuscitation pod. He stretched his arms a bit and adjusted his helmet properly on his head, attempting to assuage his jarred nerves. The first part of the nightmare had been nothing new.but the Iris/X apparition had been something completely new, and remembering his conversation with the ghost frightened him even more. He'd heard the animalistic growling coming from his throat, and he'd felt the hatred boiling within him as he'd driven the sword through the specter...  
  
"Stop it..." He told himself, taking a deep breath and marching toward the entrance. "Bad memories...that's all, nothing but a dream..."  
  
***  
  
As the two Forge brothers passed by the Hub's fountain, Richter noticed the transport unit in front of it energizing, its dark blue pad receiving a passenger from elsewhere on the base. Neat piece of technology, that. A pair of figures materialized out of the gold haze engulfing the unit, and as they came into focus, Richter and Gavin automatically gave a straight, rigid salute to General Signas and his well-dressed elderly companion.  
  
Signas glanced down with pleasant surprise at the two Forges, returning their salute and giving them a curt nod.  
  
"At ease, soldiers; it's good that you're here," He said to them, prompting the brothers to maintain a relaxed yet dignified stance. "Forgive me for my tardiness, Lieutenants; I know I was due to enter the transfer briefing with the two of you over an hour ago."  
  
"It was my fault entirely, general," The elegant-looking man next to him lowered his head reverently in apology. Richter was impressed by the man's appearance - he appeared very human-like for a Reploid, and the suit he was donning certainly wasn't cheaply tailored. "Once I begin to talk about business, there's no stopping me. But thank you for considering those proposals of mine."  
  
"I'll have the Civilian Protectorate contact you later in the week about the implementation of the aid dispersal. Again, Saren, I thank you and the Cerebra Group for your hospitality."  
  
"Please, the lives of the Reploids braving this cruel world are my utmost concern," The old man smiled pleasantly, his voice taking on an eloquent tone. "There's a saying from old humankind that can still apply to Reploids today: "'Kindness, nobler ever than revenge.'"  
  
"'As You Like It,'" Gavin smiled broadly, an odd-looking brightness emerging in his eyes as he listened to the elder Reploid. Saren and Signas were both surprised, turning to face Gavin as the young Hunter suddenly realized his outburst and moved quickly to reaffirm a solemnity in his face. Richter arched an eyebrow in confusion at his brother.  
  
"As they like what?" He asked. It was unusual for Gavin to blurt out something as random as that, especially before a superior officer.  
  
"Errmm.merely admiring your fondness for Shakespeare, sir," He replied in a more respectful tone. "As You Like It, Act Four, Scene Three."  
  
"WHO??" Richter shot his younger brother a blank stare. "What kind of stupid name is that?"  
  
"William Shakespeare!" Gavin rolled his eyes. Seeing that Richter was still giving him a blank stare caused him to scowl. "Come now, brother, even you've had to hear about him in between all of your military maneuvers courses!"  
  
Saren looked pleased as he smiled respectfully back toward Gavin. As Richter continued to look baffled, Saren gave him a mirthful laugh.  
  
"You should borrow some of the young one's cultural prowess, valiant soldier; the battlefield certainly isn't everything, even in this day and age. Tell me, young Hunter, what is your designation?"  
  
Richter noticed Gavin becoming jittery as Saren calmly sauntered over to him.  
  
"Err...umm...Gavin, Gavin Forge, Lieutenant Third Class," He stammered, drawing a smirk from Richter. "If...if I may, sir, would you happen to be Saren Thell?"  
  
"That I am."  
  
Gavin's posture faltered slightly; Richter could tell that he was excited by the acknowledgement.  
  
"Forgive my outburst, but I am a huge supporter of what you and your organization are doing for the arts in Talara and of Shakespeare, as you've seen. It's truly an honor to be acquainted with you, sir."  
  
"Please, Gavin, call me Saren," He shook the young Reploid's hand, looking back in Signas's direction, nodding approvingly. The general had previously been watching the exchange with silent amusement. "It's encouraging to see quick, sharp wits being applied to more than just the military end of this fine organization. I admire your commitment to the classics, young Gavin."  
  
"In my opinion, Saren," Gavin looked a bit more at ease, though he still bore some signs of fluster. "There is no classic author greater than Shakespeare. I'm just glad I'm not the only one still interested in maintaining his legacy among Reploids."  
  
"True words, friend," Saren replied. "I'll be opening another theater in the south district soon; perhaps you may be able to spare a visit. Its performances will be primarily based on Shakespearian works."  
  
"It would be a pleasure, sir!" Gavin was elated, more than Richter had ever seen him. "Err, I mean, thank you, Saren. I would be honored."  
  
::Boy, these two are made for each other.I might as well be listening to an audio dictionary.::  
  
Richter knew that this encounter would only serve to fuel Gavin's academic half as opposed to his performances as a Maverick Hunter, which certainly wasn't the best direction to head into considering their recent promotions. It had been difficult enough to keep Gavin on a decent training regiment during their days in Unit Eight because he'd always found a fascination with some old-world novel or story.  
  
Saren glanced down at his gold-encrusted watch.  
  
"My, how time flies," He noted, addressing General Signas. "I will be taking my leave, general. I anxiously await your status report."  
  
"Good day, Saren," Signas bowed politely as Saren spun on his heels and headed toward the entrance.  
  
"Farewell, Lieutenant Forge. Please continue your interest in the old works. They carry much value for this generation of Reploids."  
  
Gavin nodded briskly as Saren moved toward the sign out desk at the Hub entrance. As soon as he was out of hearing distance, Richter leaned over toward Gavin with interest in his eyes.  
  
"Making friends in high places, very good, little brother," He joked. "You catch on to the politics of the business very quickly."  
  
"Oh, come on, Richter," Gavin said with irritation. "You have your role models, and I have mine. I always wonder what the old artists like Shakespeare or Baudelaire would say about beings like us."  
  
"They wouldn't say a thing - they'd probably just write it down in a language too complicated and excessive for the average Reploid to understand," Richter answered him, folding his arms. "But that's my view."  
  
"Gentlemen!" Signas addressed them distinctly. Both Forges took their cue and diverted their full attention to the general. "As I was saying, your timing couldn't be better. It seems that the two of you have the potential to be thrown into the fire on your first day."  
  
"How do you mean, sir?" Richter asked.  
  
"Let's wait until X and Alia arrive," Signas answered. "Then you'll have your answers."  
  
"Speaking of whom..." Gavin nodded toward the right end of the Hub, and Richter spotted the two Hunters hurrying around the corner. Alia waved to them as they approached, and X possessed a look of elation on his unblemished face. "Well, someone's looking eager..."  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Richter noticed something else, something a bit out of place. Next to the check-out desk, he spotted two hulking Reploids hovering near Saren. He at first suspected they were accosting the elderly Reploid, but after the two saluted him, Richter assumed that they were serving him in some kind of bodyguard capacity.  
  
Strangely, they didn't look like the kind seen around a humanitarian and would-be poet like Saren. The one on the right was about eight feet tall, his beige exterior rough and textured. In place of hands, he had sharp- looking pincers, and a versatile tail with a prominent stinger protruded out of his back, dangling on the floor behind him. His narrow gold eyes possessed a dangerous edge to them - Richter had seen the same hardened looks on mercenary and assassin types.  
  
His companion was no less intimidating, possessing highly durable-looking armor and a set of elegant wings. The different shades of maroon, teal, and marigold gave him the appearance of a peacock at first, but after noticing the sharp beak and clawed hands, Richter figured that he was either a hawk, or eagle. Either way, he looked as shady as his partner and quite fearsome - Richter wondered how such devious figures had fallen under the employ of someone as obviously proper and regal as Saren Thell.  
  
He turned away as the hawk Reploid's beady eyes met his, acting casual and not wanting to arouse hostilities. Richter shifted his mind back on whatever task was at hand, finding that he could barely contain his excitement of their first potential mission.  
***  
  
"We'll be returning to the complex, Marett," Saren informed his obedient driver as he entered into the hover-car. Marett silently nodded, closing the door as Saren took his usual seat. The Bionoid let himself sink comfortably into the leather cushioning - things had worked out perfectly, as always.  
  
He glanced at the brooding figures seated nearby. Terrahawk's wings were crunched up against the interior, and he was shifting uncomfortably to adjust them. Scorpulos was smirking with his pincers folded across his chest at his partner, flashing a set of gold fangs as he snuffed.  
  
"I can just as easily glide back, you know," Terrahawk grumbled as he batted one of his transparent feathers away from his beak. "I hate these contraptions...it makes flying seem like less and less of a gift..."  
  
"It's necessary; I need to update you two on the current time-table before my meeting with the project teams," Saren informed him. "The next forty- eight hours are going to be critical if this plan is going to succeed; I may be out of touch for some time."  
  
"I can't believe you went with that arrogant punk for the HYBRID break- in..." Scorpulos hissed as he picked his teeth with the tip of one of his pincers. "I can just as easily acquire those viral samples, and none of us would have to put up with his attitude..."  
  
"Questioning my wisdom, Scorpulos?" Saren didn't want to directly admit it to the hot-headed Scorpulos, but he didn't consider the crude fighting methods that both of his hires employed as the best way to go about robbing an organization as heavily armed as the HYBRID. As classless and arrogant as Dynamo was, his finesse and sheer skill would ensure that the virus samples would be as good as his.  
  
Scorpulos nonchalantly leaned back.  
  
"Tcch. The job doesn't matter much to me, just the cash you're funding it with."  
  
Terrahawk interjected himself just as crassly as his comrade.  
  
"One job for fifty grand; I'd be just as cocky as Dynamo was if I knew I'd be rolling in that kind of cash," He glared at Saren, who steeled his own gaze. Ungratefulness, especially among his rougher hires, was something he did not tolerate - he was their employer, and in such dealings, he had to command control in order to keep them in line.  
  
"Keeping that up will gain either of you nothing. Bear in mind that I can choose whether or not to retain your services once the Maverick Hunters begin to fall. I'd certainly be willing to pay handsomely for the heads of any Hunters my viral warriors happen to miss."  
  
Scorpulos nodded his head, satiated.  
  
"You have a way with negotiations, old man," He replied. "You've got my vote."  
  
"Now then, to business. Scorpulos, you mentioned that security was increased?" Saren asked as the car began to lift off. The seats were buffeted momentarily by the take-off but soon settled. "Was there any indication that they'd discovered the bugs?"  
  
"Unlikely," Scorpulos replied in a raspy, serpent-like tone. "All computer systems were operating at normal security functions as far as I could tell. We were probably just a bit unlucky."  
  
"I don't think that little aerial sideshow went over well with the administrators," Terrahawk noted. "I doubt I can get away with it during our next visit without being thrown out."  
  
"We'll be a bit more creative next time," Scorpulos nodded. "Besides, the last half of the communications systems was covered in this visit. That takes care of the primary defense grid; all that remains is to get those things into the electrical systems, and poof, no more high-tech Maverick Hunter fortress."  
  
"Just a dark, dead shell casing," Terrahawk gnawed on one of his sharp claws. "It'll be an easy target for the program retrieval."  
  
"We'll get to that momentarily, Terrahawk," Saren activated a small pad on the arm of his chair, triggering the activation of a video screen in the front of the cabin. He clicked in the digits of the frequency corresponding to the quarters he'd situated for Dynamo in the Executive Suites of the Cerebra Complex. For mostly practical reasons, many of the employees of the Cerebra Group were put up in the residential towers within the complex, and Saren's private and most-honored (or most notorious) guests were always given the finest luxuries.  
  
"Dynamo, do you copy?" He spoke into the receivers embedded into the sides of the screen. Many seconds passed, and the rectangular screen remained pitch black and silent. Saren frowned with irritation - he'd given Dynamo explicit instructions not to wander off, even if the bounty hunter had remained on the grounds of the complex.  
  
"The golden boy's nowhere to be found, how surprising," Terrahawk chuckled.  
  
"Dynamo, this is Saren; please respond to my signal!"  
  
Fifteen more seconds went by, and Saren was about to speak again when an audio message crackled through the speakers.  
  
"Hang on; give me a second!!" Dynamo's anxious voice rang through the cabin, though he hadn't activated his monitor yet, leading Saren to wonder what he was up to. "Dammit, I didn't expect you to contact me until you got back, old man!"  
  
The monitor finally flickered on, static filtering out of the image before it stabilized. Saren saw Dynamo straightening himself, his armor loose and somewhat disjointed on his body. His hair was a bit frizzed, and he looked to be a bit out of breath.  
  
"How's it going, old timer?" He laughed aloud, attempting to act casual as he replaced the red visor over his eyes. "Sorry about the mess...you kinda caught me in the middle of something."  
  
Saren gazed suspiciously at Dynamo, but he let the thought pass - he was probably catching a quick recharge and overslept the cycle completion.  
  
"In any event, I wanted to touch base with you - considering the current activity from the HYBRID headquarters, I've decided to send you in there tonight. I'll be arranging for suitable transportation once we arrive back at the complex."  
  
Dynamo pumped his fist, his overly confident demeanor restored.  
  
"All right! I was wondering how long you were going to keep me sitting around up here. I mean, don't get me wrong - I enjoy the royalty treatment and everything, but I need to see some action on the field every once and again! What kind of transportation you looking at for me? A high-powered jet fighter, some kind of stealth ship?"  
  
Saren regarded the overzealousness mildly - hopefully, it would only lead to the desired results of his mission.  
  
"I was thinking of something along the lines of a disguised cargo vessel leased from one of our fronts, IF you don't mind."  
  
Dynamo looked slightly crestfallen, prompting Saren to address him a bit more sternly.  
  
"Need I remind you that this operation requires secrecy and subtlety above all else?" He remarked with irritation. "If you or our transport craft are discovered or captured, they could trace you back to me and the Cerebra Group. Then all of us are going to be losing out!"  
  
"All right, all right, old timer, point taken; but I'm pretty sure I can handle whatever brass they've got skulking around over there," Dynamo threw back some of his white hair. "Just give me the details, and I'll fetch those samples, no problem."  
  
"No need to get ahead of ourselves, friend," Saren held up a hand to stifle the bounty hunter. "Just allow me to perform some routine checkups on the prototypes, and I'll join you for a formal briefing around nineteen hundred hours."  
  
"Dynamo?" Another voice - this one feminine and somewhat alluring - called from off-screen, prompting Dynamo's nervousness to return as he glanced with a bit of panic to his right. "Aren't you coming back to bed?"  
  
"Err...Is something wrong, Dynamo?" Saren wondered, confused at first - had Dynamo invited a guest into the suites? If so, the Bionoid would've been furious - there was no room for a possible security breach on this project, and divulging the wrong information to the wrong people could've been disastrous. "Who's that?"  
  
But Saren felt his nerves settle and his gorge rising as the second speaker wandered partially on-screen. At the realization, he buried his face in his hand with embarrassment as Scorpulos and Terrahawk tried to keep from bursting out into laughter.  
  
"Sweetheart, this is kind of an important call..." Dynamo fretfully said to his scantily-clad accomplice, who started gazing sleepily into the monitor. The bounty hunter quickly took her by the arm and dragged her out of the monitor's view. "Look, there's been kind of a change of plans...my boss is coming back in a bit, and I think he wants his room cleared out..."  
  
"What?" The female Reploid asked in confusion. "I thought you said this place was yours?"  
  
"Err...slight misinterpretation, honey..." Dynamo replied. "Here's your share, with a bit extra thrown in for all the work you put in..."  
  
The female sounded satisfied, and Saren heard the sound of the door sliding open.  
  
"Thanks a lot, sweetie! Call me back anytime!" Saren shook his head grimly as he heard the sounds of kissing before the door slid closed again. He scowled as Dynamo hurried back onto the viewscreen, his face nearly as red as his visor. Scorpulos and Terrahawk were barely able to contain themselves as Saren's iron gaze bore into the bounty hunter.  
  
"Well...you gave me ten grand up front; I figured that I didn't want it sitting here collecting dust, heh..." Dynamo stammered before his head came to rest on the monitor controls. "Anyways...I guess I'll straighten up around here and wait for you to get back...Dynamo, signing off, Saren!"  
  
Saren disconnected the message before Dynamo could, letting out a breath of disbelief and revulsion. With Dynamo gone, Scorpulos and Terrahawk were free to let loose, and it didn't take them more than three seconds to start cracking up.  
  
"'Have patience and endure...'" Saren muttered to himself. "'There was never yet a philosopher that could endure the toothache patiently...'"  
  
He did decide on one thing though - the asinine fool who dreamed up the idea of granting Reploids hormones should've been dragged out into the streets and shot, preferably multiple times.  
  
*** Signas punched in the access codes for Command Central, going through the usual senior officer voice ID and retinal scans before the heavy iron doors rolled back, allowing them access to the proverbial brain of the Maverick Hunter base.  
  
No matter how many times he'd been inside the immense chamber, X was always utterly amazed by its layout and functions. Several communications officers from other units were hard at work at the powerful mainframes and radio consoles lining the outside of the spherical room, fidgeting and tweaking the various multi-colored knobs and switches and jotting notes down onto data-pads. Jutting out of the middle of the chamber's tiled floor was a state-of-the-art circular holo-projector, used for battle strategizing during particularly important Maverick Hunter incursions. Signas took his usual seat at the control console on the far side of the projector while the others seated themselves in various locales around the globular device.  
  
As X settled into his chair, Alia leaned over and whispered softly to him.  
  
"I can't believe Signas actually let the rookies into the session, on their first day no less! This has got to be huge!"  
  
"We'll have to wait and see..." X focused himself as Signas activated the power switches for the projector. The blue grid map on the top of the device began to glow eerily, the internal circuitry warming itself up as Signas addressed the congregation.  
  
"As almost all of you have inquired about the importance of this new information, you'll be glad to hear that it could prompt military action."  
  
The grid began broadcasting a hazy green image about half a meter above its surface - as X studied it, he noticed that it was a wilderness area; huge expenses of evergreens rolled over the hills at the foot of an expansive mountain range. From what he could gather, the flat areas surrounding the forests were glaciers or snowfields.  
  
"The Tundra sector..." Gavin murmured absently. "Way out there..."  
  
"Thank you, lieutenant, may I proceed?" Signas chided Gavin slightly before beginning with his briefing. "He is correct, however; this is the extreme north end of the Tundra sector, at the foot of the Atlus Mountains. Within the past hour we have received critical radio traffic from Commander Tygeron of Unit Fourteen - he's updated us on some potential unauthorized activity occurring in this region."  
  
"Is it anything major? We've found evidence of small-time thieves hiding out up there before," X suggested.  
  
"True, but what Tygeron found was quite disturbing - he's reported the detection of several large convoys of armored vehicles passing through the snowfields in the past few days. The markings on the transports were largely inconsistent with the usual traffic that flows through the Tundra sector, so Tygeron acted on a hunch and led a small raiding party to tail them."  
  
Signas clicked on a few buttons in front of him, zooming in on a particular section of the image to a close-up of a minor clearing near the mountains. X nodded slowly as he noticed a box-shaped icon flashing in the middle of the clearing.  
  
As Signas prepared to continue, the heavy doors of Command Central slowly opened to admit another soldier, and X was pleasantly surprised to see Zero strolling confidently into the chamber. He nodded in greeting to his friend, who dutifully seated himself as the general went on.  
  
"Following one of the convoys led Tygeron to this hither-to unknown structure sitting right under the shadow of the mountain range, well protected by the elements from radar detection. After watching the unloading of some illicit cargo from the vehicles and cataloguing the fortress's heavy defenses, Tygeron is roughly ninety-five percent certain that this is the HYBRID's main base of operations."  
  
"Son of a..." Richter leaned his head on his arm. "It makes sense, though. I remember hearing rumors about the shifting of power among some of the Maverick guerilla commanders in the surrounding sectors. HYBRID might be prepping themselves for some new customers."  
  
"Regardless, we need to decide quickly what to do about this discovery - increased sales of these illegal arms to those Mavericks will only escalate the instability of the region."  
  
"What kind of weapons have been IDed by the scout groups?" X asked.  
  
Signas shook his head grimly.  
  
"Unfortunately, the group's better equipped than we previously believed. From what Unit Fourteen was able to determine, the unloading convoys were carrying a plethora of small arms and military grade weaponry - rifles, plasma grenades, rocket launchers, aerial mines, you name it. They also suspected the carrying of parts and fuel used in the construction of cruise missiles and EMP devices."  
  
"I'd love to know where they got their hands on that stuff." Gavin snuffed indignantly.  
  
"In that case," Zero spoke up for the first time. "I suggest we go after them as soon as possible - if this base has been under our noses for such a long time, who knows what they've already got assembled and ready to go."  
  
"Regrettably, we may have to move in very soon, sooner than you may be suggesting, commander," Signas continued. "The scouting mission didn't go off without slight setbacks. The group was detected by a motion sensor and got caught in a firefight with HYBRID terrorists just outside the compound. Tygeron managed to get most of his men out of there, but he reported several casualties."  
  
"That's not good..." X felt his processor tightening. "If they suspect that we've discovered their operation, they might decide to pack up and get out of there."  
  
"We've seen it before," Alia added. "I'm inclined to agree with Commander X. Considering the failed results of previous attacks on suspected HYBRID outlets, I'm almost positive that they would completely disappear from the area if we fail to act."  
  
X wholeheartedly agreed with that assessment - he'd participated in several of the aforementioned strikes over the past months, but upon arriving at the bases, the strike teams had always been astonished to find them totally vacant and wiped clean of any traces of illicit materials. Needless to say, repeated occurrences of this disappointing result had nearly caused X to blow a gasket. HYBRID was notorious for their secretive and sometimes paranoid nature, and that mindset had left the Maverick Hunters with little to no connections to a central headquarters until now.  
  
"If we can band with Unit Fourteen with a heavily armed team of our own, we could be able to storm the complex and at least wreak some havoc to slow their production. It's worth a shot, I think," Zero suggested.  
  
"That's our dilemma," Signas replied. "Most of our units are currently out in the field on active duty. The remaining forces are nowhere near enough to even make it past the outer defense grid of their fortress. The significant amount of casualties sustained by Tygeron's unit also makes me hesitant to send them back into the fray - we still need their continued presence in other areas of the Tundra sector, and I believe it's best to let them recover from their setbacks first."  
  
"So, now what?" Richter inquired. "We can't just sit here and watch them run away."  
  
"There is an alternative; of course, just as much risk runs with it," Signas went on, standing and clasping his hands behind his back. "Commander X, I'm going to ask you and your unit if you're comfortable running an infiltration mission with the assistance of Commander Zero. We would drop you into the fortress from one of our stealth-capable transports, and you would gather as much information and, if necessary, create as much chaos as you can."  
  
"Infiltration, sir?" X was surprised at the suggestion - stealth was not an optimal job for hardened frontline soldiers that X considered him and Zero to be. But looking over their options, it was the best plan. Besides, he would've kicked himself for days if he threw away a chance to finally nail the HYBRID organization. "I'd be more than willing..."  
  
He glanced over toward the Forge brothers thoughtfully. It normally wasn't regular practice for the rookies of elite units to actively participate in the first mission - they would generally be on the sidelines in a support role for the sake of observing the tactics of their new comrades. But considering the circumstances (not to mention their obvious skills), he felt that they would be more valuable alongside him.  
  
"...But only if my new recruits can accompany us in combat on this operation."  
  
X noticed Gavin and Richter shift in their seats, their faces becoming brighter and more excited.  
  
"As you wish, commander," Signas nodded. "Lieutenant First Class Richter Forge and Lieutenant Third Class Gavin Forge, feel privileged - you're being sent into your first mission with the elites."  
  
"Thank you, sir!" Both Forges exclaimed toward X and Signas.  
  
"And Zero, are you--"  
  
"You don't even need to ask," Zero gave an eager smirk toward Signas. "Just set me loose, and I'll tear them up!"  
  
"A reminder to you, Zero: this is an infiltration mission, not a guerilla war," Signas chided him, glancing over toward the communications officer. "And Alia, of course you'll be participating in this as well."  
  
"Of course, sir, I'll ready my station for full radio and tech support--"  
  
"Err...that won't be necessary," Signas waved his hand as Alia stared back in confusion. "If we're going to proceed with a clandestine operation, then long-range radio communications are not an option. You'll be stationed in the transport and utilize short-range burst communication with your team."  
  
Alia nodded in understanding, the new situation not deterring her a bit.  
  
"Well then, what are we waiting for?" Richter stood up from his chair. "We're losing precious time! Let's get out there!"  
  
"Not so fast, lieutenant," Signas interrupted him as Richter was charging toward the door. "We'll still need to settle on an attack strategy from what little information we have on the HYBRID fortress. Also."  
  
He measured up the four Hunters, shaking his head with a bit of smile on his face.  
  
"How can I put this...you're too...bright."  
  
"Bright...sir?" X asked him, glancing down at his armor. He didn't think his blue shade stood out that much; if anything, Zero's vibrant red coating and Richter's polished silver apparel were much more noticeable. "What are you suggesting?"  
  
"I think a slight re-coloring is in order to lessen the chances of you being seen by the enemy. Report to the Infirmary Wing for a temporary paint adjustment. All of you."  
  
X heard Zero groan lowly - he always hated it when people attempted to tamper with his form, even vehemently rejecting the idea of getting a new shade for his armor whenever the subject was brought up. Even if it meant a powerful upgrade for him, Zero never wanted to remove what he considered to be his dashing good looks. Signas's eyes drifted to the grumbling Hunter. The last part of his statement had obviously referred to Zero's stubbornness on the idea of being altered.  
  
"If it's not a problem, sir, I have a better idea, at least for me," X suggested.  
  
Signas looked over toward X.  
  
"What did you have in mind, commander?"  
  
"Just one of my acquisitions from the Nightmare Crisis," The blue Hunter replied. It took Signas a bit to understand his meaning, but when he did, the general approved.  
  
***  
  
The circular entranceway opened up for Saren as he passed through the infrared motion sensors, and the Bionoid sauntered confidently into the expansive laboratory beyond. He gazed around with satisfaction at the state- of-the-art facility; Laboratory Twenty-One was the largest and most sophisticated of his private research stations constructed several hundred meters beneath the Cerebra Group Complex. While many of their outward functions served in developing new vaccines or medicines for the humans before the Great Collapse, Saren had converted this particular lab to be the main R & D area for his two viral projects.  
  
He couldn't help but feel a sensation of built-up excitement tingling in his processor as he stepped across the sterilized metal floor - his head developer had promised him the completion of the physical prototypes by the late afternoon, and Saren was incredibly eager to see the results.  
  
The humanoid, white-coated researchers bustling around the lab saluted him as he passed by, and he acknowledged them similarly. Unlike the scientists assigned to the other lab stations, many of the technicians working in Laboratory Twenty-One weren't on the official payroll of the Cerebra Group - Saren had personally hand-picked a good number of them from various black market locales and supplied them with cash out of his own pocket to assist him on the viral project. All of them had been worthwhile bargains - thanks to their diligence, the project was running several days ahead of schedule.  
  
He stopped at a smaller collection of technicians assembled at the rear of the large chamber. They were receiving orders from a tall, lanky scientist in a large white coat.  
  
"...double check the fuel lines for the stasis units - we need to keep these bodies preserved. Haley, begin the pre-testing sequences for the infusion simulations."  
  
As the group dispersed to carry out their orders, the supervising technicians personally greeted Saren with a firm handshake. Saren smiled pleasantly toward the elder Reploid technician, not in a show of mere respect but in one of friendship. Nigel Farragut was one of the more renowned scientific names in the mercenary world, his reputation for creating superlative military constructs for his employers justifying the excessive amounts of zenni required to buy his services. Saren had not regretted the decision - Farragut had served well as head designer for the project, his meticulous nature during the construction lending him the tone of an artist at work on a masterpiece rather than a scientist creating two powerful weapons. Saren could always respect such diligence from any high- level profession.  
  
"Ah, Saren, it's good to see you. I trust you'll be satisfied with the show we have for you today - the exoskeletons have been completed!"  
  
Saren nodded gratefully.  
  
"Indeed, doctor; please unveil your team's creations," He replied.  
  
Farragut turned back toward a pair of opaque capsules embedded in the back wall. The blue glass gave off an eerie glow, a slight trail of mist seeping out from underneath the bottoms of the containers. Several boxes of various parts and tools were strewn nearby, many of them recently used.  
  
"We've had to contain the bodies in stasis units to optimize the conditions of their circuitry, but as soon as we run a few simulations on the introduction of the Zero Virus into the Bionoid cellular circuits, we'll be ready to proceed with phase two of the project."  
  
He moved over to a square-shaped computer terminal that ran multiple cables and wires into the two capsules. After clicking on a few of the module's buttons, the containers slid away, causing cold stasis-inducing gas to spill out into the room. Several seconds later, Saren was pleasantly surprised to behold the two perfectly finished exoskeletons of Vile and Iris standing before him, their systems wired safely into the capsules' stasis circuitry.  
  
Farragut paused briefly as Saren moved forward to examine the two forms. The head technician had done an extraordinary job - everything from the precise grooves in Vile's armor plating and T-visored helmet to the sweet, unblemished demeanor of Iris's face had been recreated in these incarnations. Their forms were completely beige-colored save for Iris's excessive brown hair - their exterior plating had been redone with the Biotech Armament as Saren had requested. They were both motionless in their stances, still awaiting mental programming to fill their CPUs. But even inanimate, it was an awe-filled experience just beholding them. Each of them held a unique piece of Maverick Hunter history within them, and when they were finally given life...Saren couldn't wait to see the horrified looks on X and Zero's faces once these two were alive and doing his bidding.  
  
He smiled toward his two masterpieces.  
  
"'All ignorant that soul that sees thee without wonder,'" He mused to himself, turning back to the technician. "Expect a bonus to be deposited into the accounts of yourself and your design team, Doctor Farragut - this is a job well done!"  
  
Farragut bowed meekly.  
  
"You're too kind, sir," He smiled as he examined the exoskeletons. "I apologize for the lack of coloring given to the bodies, but the cellular framework of the Biotech Armament rejected all of the different shadings we tried."  
  
"Biotechnological cells were never meant to be colored, doctor," Saren replied. "Do they still possess all of the correct features?"  
  
"Of course, sir; we had to use your older set of Bionoid armor as a template when we were mapping out the similar versions for Vile and Iris. It was difficult technology, but we managed to recreate it without much trouble - their armoring contains the same regenerative and tenacious features that you once possessed during your days as a soldier."  
  
Saren nodded approvingly. The former feature had always been what had made the Bionoids so dangerous back in their day - even powerful blows to their armor could've been repaired within minutes simply by the cells rapidly multiplying overtop of the damaged or destroyed layers. It had saved Saren's life on numerous occasions during his tenure.  
  
"And from your research, doctor..." Saren went on. "The Zero Virus will only improve these features?"  
  
"Theoretically, the symbiotic cellular regeneration will be sped up incredibly, allowing them to recover from injuries in mere seconds! Their offensive and defense capabilities will be extensively strengthened as well, giving them greater power and speed than any Maverick Hunter on the current active duty roster. Once the virus has bonded with the cellular armor and the sentience programming infused into their CPUs, all that remains is to install the specified weapons onto their bodies, and they'll be ready for activation."  
  
"And the drawbacks?"  
  
Farragut scratched his chin.  
  
"Well, as I mentioned to you at the onset of this project, it's impossible to know what kind of effects the viral integration is going to have on their mental functions - we simply don't have enough data on the virus to create a complete safeguard that will prevent it from seeping into their CPUs. However, many of us are confident that we can at least stifle a bulk of the viral programming from getting into their higher mental processes."  
  
"Do whatever you can to optimize that effort during the retrieval of the Zero Virus," Saren told him, confident in the doctor's abilities. "The operation will be taking place within the next several hours."  
  
"Yes, sir," Farragut acknowledged him. "By the way, are you still considering the placement of the virus into your own suit of armor?"  
  
Saren sighed, unresponsive at first. Technically, it was possible, albeit incredibly risky. Ever since the thought had first occurred to him, it had been a tantalizing temptation that was difficult even for him to overcome. It would've transformed him into an incredible warrior of power, much like his new creations.but the mental side-effects of the Zero Virus had always been what deterred that course of action. What would be the influence of the virus over his older circuitry and unguarded programming? How much of himself would he lose in gaining such power...  
  
::'If I lose mine honour, I lose myself.':: He decided. No cause was worth making such a rash sacrifice, allowing the altering of one's judgment on a suicidal level. And Saren valued his mind above almost everything else - in a deranged state, he could've forgotten his true purpose for executing these events: repairing the injustice caused to his kind so long ago. His mind firm, he turned back to face the doctor.  
  
"Perish the thought, Farragut," He shook his head. "Just do what you can to strengthen the safeguards on their vital circuitry while I see to the recovery of the Zero Virus."  
  
"As you wish, sir," Farragut seemed relieved, letting out a held breath as he curtly bowed to his employer. Saren appreciated the sentiment - the doctor's bond with him had grown since the beginning of the construction, and though Farragut was professional enough to keep their relationship on a business-like tone, Saren did regard the elder scientist as a friend.  
  
As Farragut turned away to return to his work, Saren strode confidently out of the chamber, eager to brief Dynamo on his upcoming mission. He only hoped that the arrogant mercenary had cleaned himself up after his 'activities' from earlier; without his full cooperation and focus on the mission, the virus could've easily slipped through his fingers and ruined everything that he'd worked so fervently to set in motion.  
  
Still, thinking about the two perfectly constructed exoskeletons he'd been witness to inside the lab restored his wavering conscience. They would things of wonder on the battlefield, felling the despotic Maverick Hunters like so many gnats swarming about in a random, aimless cloud.  
  
::'Everything that grows holds in perfection but a little moment.':: He mused to himself, the wisdom of the old artists ever present in his bustling mind to provide him with guidance. Once that moment of perfection came at the activation of his viral warriors, he would make certain that the instant would endure long enough to see the Maverick Hunters crumble to dust... 


End file.
